


Flooded

by Unusual-Underground (unusual_underground)



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (TV 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Flooded, Gen, Gothic, Multi, Other, Sleepy Seaside, Unusual Underground, tim burton - Freeform, unusual-underground, unusual_underground, winona ryder - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2771753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/pseuds/Unusual-Underground
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Maitlands are missing. A Lydia on the verge of turning 18 is sent to live with her overly-religious aunt. Betelgeuse can't be reached. And the Netherworld is going haywire!</p><p>---<br/>formerly titled "Sleepy Seaside"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unearthed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to the death of Lydia's parents, she's been forced to live with her dad's sister. As if her life wasn't already a lonely one.

[ ](http://unusual-underground.tumblr.com/post/150654737470/read-flooded-on-ao3-or-ff)

 

Flooded  
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)  
Chapter 1: Unearthed

 

“Another cloudy day in this dreadful town… At least the sky is tolerable,” mumbled Lydia as she shoved the kickstand down with her boot. Some days she wished she could plummet off the cliff and join them all. But who was she kidding? None of them wanted her. Barbara and Adam vanished. Dad and Delia left. And Betelgeuse—he didn't care about her anymore. Lydia was alone. In life and death. She straddled the shadows, her only companions now. Even Percy, her beloved cat, had abandoned her for her neighbors. Granted, Percy didn't want to leave Lydia, but she had to give him up. Uncle Duane was allergic, and Chloe wouldn't let Percy come, not even as an outdoor cat.

Sighing, Lydia chained her bike, slipped the key in her satchel, and picked up her books from the basket. She was doing well in all her classes except Bible Study. She had better things to read. Some of the younger kids in school called her the She-devil, Demon Worshiper, and a Witch. They would tease her, saying she should burn at the stake.

To mock them all, Lydia carved pagan and Wiccan symbols on the bible the school had given her. Lydia had nothing against Aunt Chloe’s choice of worship, but she hated being condemned by them all for not conforming. So what if Lydia didn't want to convert? She was raised Agnostic, practiced her own form of Wiccan, and knew more about the after-life than any of them!

Lydia didn’t know if there was a God, a Heaven, or a Hell, but Barbra believed. And Barbra never got angry or offended by Lydia’s skepticism. Barbra accepted Lydia for who she was, or at least Barbra did… before she disappeared without even a goodbye. Why couldn't Chloe understand!

Lydia didn't want to spend her senior year at Chloe’s church! She wanted to finish at Miss Shannon's School for Girls back in Winter River. Lydia could have stayed at Bertha or Prudence’s! Lydia was sure their parents would understand.

But no. Aunt Chloe insisted that Lydia move in with her and transfer to the Catholic School near Chloe’s house. Away from Lydia’s home. And friends. And Percy…

Lydia took her seat at the back of the class, doodling until the teacher yelled at her to put up her things so they could take a test. Lydia knew she'd pass. She had nothing better to do than study between therapy sessions and sitting in church…

She finished the exam early and flipped the test over so she could draw on the back. Lydia began scribbling tombstones with bats fluttering above them. How she missed the Netherworld… If she could only go for a moment… If she could just take a small break away from this world… See her friends…

Lydia looked around. Everyone’s noses were to their tests as their pencils scraped on the paper. The clock ticked slowly. The teacher was sending emails… Lydia sighed. “Maybe just this once,” she thought before mumbling the chant under her breath:

“Though I know I should be wary,  
“Still I venture someplace scary.”

She looked around again. No one took notice of her.

“Ghostly hauntings I turn loose.  
“Betelgeuse. Betelgeuse. Betelgeuse!”

Some spit landed on the graphite grass covering the sketched grave. Lydia’s heart thumped. She looked frantically around, expecting something out of the ordinary. The teacher was still typing on the keyboard. Her peers were still scrawling out answers. Lydia looked back down at her paper. Maybe a ghost was lingering in the graveyard!

Nothing.

The graveyard was static, the tombs were undisturbed, and the bats were as stuck as ever.

Maybe the Netherworld never existed? Maybe it was all in her head? Beetlejuice, Barbra, even Percy. Maybe she should consult her therapist on the matter…

The sound of Lydia’s heartbeat was soon replaced by the ticking of the clock.

Lydia put her head down on the desk and waited for class to end. Nothing would ever change. Life was boring…

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

The toll bell rang for Lydia. It was finally her time to crossover! Death was taking her! Lydia was going to be rid of this place forever! Lydia took Death’s skeleton hand.

“You’re not afraid?” Death asked.

“I was friends with Jacques! Of course I'm not afraid. I think it’s cool!”

Death looked Lydia over with his hollow eyes. “Interesting choice of burial gown,” he finally said.

As Lydia was stepping into the mare drawn carriage, she glanced down. Layers of speckled red lace shrouded her. She gasped and looked back up. Death removed his robe to reveal a ghost wearing a plum tux. Before Lydia could register what was happening, there was a tap on her shoulder. Spinning to see who it was, she fell out of the carriage and startled awake.

“School is over, Lydia,” said the teacher, poking her with a ruler. “You can go home now.”

“Oh.” Lydia sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Okay.” She stood up, slung her satchel diagonally over her body, and gathered her books to leave.

“Oh, and Lydia,” the teacher said as Lydia stepped out the door. Lydia waited. “Stop falling asleep in class.”

“Yeah.” Lydia hurried off before the teacher could scold her more. What did it matter if she dozed off in class? She was doing well—for the most part. It wasn't like anyone wanted her “wicked” input anyway. And Lydia sure didn't want to be there. Sleeping was easier. An escape. It was the closest thing to death she was getting.

After plopping her books and chain in the basket, Lydia hopped on her bike and began peddling. The sky was darker than it was that morning…

Lydia took her usual detour through the woods (if you could call this tiny tree-patch that) to Cliffside, parked her bike against a tree, and sat down at the ledge. How easy it would be to scoot just a little farther forward… then Lydia could really meet Death. Maybe today the school bell was her toll bell? Maybe today she would do it! All it took was a little shove forward. Just a little nudge.

Ca-Clank!

Lydia startled out of her daze and looked back. Her bike had fallen. She groaned and went over to her bike, picking it up, and putting her books back in the basket. She looked at her “mutilated” bible. Everyone else might think it was sacrilegious, but Lydia thought it was an aesthetic improvement to the bland cover it originally sported. They just lacked taste and humor.

“Remind me to put the kickstand down next time.” Lydia instructed the bike as she sat. “Then you won't ruin my plans…” She started peddling through the woods again, humming the chant of her accursed former friend.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Ow-whoa-oh-oh-oh-OH!” Hills started bubbling from the ground like the waves on the other side of the cliff! “Wh-What’s h-appeni-ing!” Lydia stopped peddling. “Please-don’t-flip-over! Please-don’t-flip-over! Please-don’t-flip-ove—ugh!” The bike toppled! Lydia slammed her foot on the ground. “No you don’t!”

The ground stopped shaking…

Lydia looked around. What just happened? Was it safe to ride?

There was a deep rumbling from the ground. “Oh shit!” It was juddering again! Lydia steadied herself in preparation for the worst.

The ground quaked.

Lydia bit her lip. This was no earthquake.

A giant sandworm burst from the earth! Chunks of grass-covered dirt, twigs, and rocks were flung everywhere. With her arm, Lydia shielded her face from flying debris. She peeked under her elbow. Giant stripes flashed past her as the invertebrate barreled by, scarcely missing her in its rampage.

Lydia gasped when she saw dingy blond hair whizz by her. “Betelgeuse?” He was grasping the end of its tail! “Betelgeuse!”

“Lydia!” He squawked, equally astonished. At least, she thought he was. Betelgeuse was being dragged around by a raging sandworm, after all.

The sandworm dashed by again, nearly missing her another time.

“Hang on, babes!” Betelgeuse snatched her off the bike, flinging her on top of the massive worm. Lydia held on with both hands and looked up at Betelgeuse. He was partly above her, his arms on either side of her body, barely clinging to the worm.

She shouted over the noise. “What are you doing! How did you get here!”

“The better question is ‘What are you doing here?’” This wasn't Winter River!

“Betelgeuse!” She didn't need his backtalk! She wanted to know how he and the sandworm got here with no “door,” and why he was taking her for the ride!

“Two more times, babe!”

She groaned. “Betelgeuse! Betelgeuse!” There was another quake and they fell back through the ground into the cloudy orange Netherworld sky.

Lydia shrieked as Betelgeuse pulled her off the sandworm with no warning and crashed into a lake. Someone yanked on her shirt and dragged her to the surface. Hacking, she clung onto Betelgeuse’s blazer.

“Need CPR?”

“No,” she wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

He helped her to land. She scrambled up the hill, grabbing fistfuls of grass, and collapsed. “Where did the sandworm go?” she asked, looking at the sky. It had vanished.

Betelgeuse shrugged, shaking out his drenched blazer. “Probably off to torment another town. They've been infesting all parts of the Netherworld. Except Sandy.”

“Sandy?”

“Eh, you know, the one the hunters tried to kill.”

“You named it ‘Sandy’! Wait, isn't that a girl’s name? I thought it was a boy?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, keeping one as a pet is better than being its meal. It kinda, you know, guards the place. Sandworms have gotten pretty territorial.”

“‘Territorial’? So you mean you're Wormy’s pet.”

He waved her off. “Minor technicality! Nothing but a big dog!”

“You or the worm?”

He glared at Lydia.

She looked away. “Where are we?” It looked familiar, but Lydia couldn't recall ever being to this lake. The water was green with algae and tasted disgusting. At least it wasn’t polluted or made of acid and slime like some of them.

“My place.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Did you… move?” The house looked more Delia than Betelgeuse. Maybe her stepmom inspired his lake house?

“No.”

“‘No’? Don't kid around, BJ. When did you move?”

“Look again.”

She did. “Oh my—” Lydia turned around. This wasn't a lake! The whole place had been flooded! There was Jacques’s house! The poor skeleton didn't even have a yard! Betelgeuse was lucky in that respect. At least he had a place to park the dragster! “How did this happen!”

“Good question.” Betelgeuse said.

“Well?” She pressed.

“I said ‘good question.’ Didn’t say I had an answer.” He shrugged back on his damp blazer. “Come on. Time for another swim.”

Lydia crossed her arms. “Hold up Betelgeuse!” He waited. “Why won't you talk to me anymore? So we had a stupid argument. Big deal. We have them all the time! That doesn't mean you need to shut-me-out! And what’s with you and that sandworm attacking me! BJ, I needed you! I needed you and you weren't there! It’s been months! I was beginning to think you didn’t exist!”

“Where was I? Where was I!” He shouted. “You’re the one who sent me off! And then moved to Netherworld-knows-where! I've been trying to reach you for months!”

“You're the one ignoring me!”

He snorted. “And how long does that ever last?” Lydia hesitated. He was bad at figuratively giving the-cold-shoulder; that was Lydia’s expertise. Now a real cold-shoulder, that was no problem for the ghost.

“Then what do you proposed happened! If we've both been trying to reach each other, how come we haven't been able to!”

“Maybe because you reversed the spell!”

“Do you know how many times I've been chanting that incantation!”

“An even number of times!” Chant the whole incantation once, and the orator would be become Betelgeuse’s “door to the other-side.” Say it twice, and the door slammed shut.

If he was nearby, anyone could summon Betelgeuse by saying his name three times. The lucky bastard bound to Betelgeuse as his door, however, got the added bonus of summoning the ghost at will, no matter how far away Betelgeuse might be. It also gave Betelgeuse the ability to contact the orator at any time from the other-side. That meant leaving the door open subjected the bound orator to Betelgeuse’s blabbering.

After their argument, Lydia did slam the door, but once she cooled off, Lydia opened it again. He just refused to listen to her!

“Maybe, but a lot of those times were odd numbers! And you still ignored me!”

“What’s your excuse for ignoring me!”

“I didn't ignore you! I got angry, but after—I got over it!”

He huffed.

“The only reason I never jumped”—off Cliffside or the house—“was because I thought you didn't want me here.” Him or her parents or the Maitlands.

“Oh come on, babes! I've been trying to get you down here for years!”

“Yeah, well… I thought you didn't want me,” Lydia blushed, “in the Netherworld.”

Roughly, he whipped his chin with the back of his hand and huffed again. “Humph! I thought you were sick of me in the Otherworld.”

“No.”

“Come on.” Betelgeuse waved her over. “We still need to swim to my place.”

“Wait.”

He rolled his eyes, exasperated, “What?”

“You never explained the sandworm.” She said the incantation in class, but it always worked immediately. It was never delayed.

“How should I know?” He said. “I didn't make the rules! Heh,” he snorted, “I don't even follow ‘em!”

“I guess you have a point…”

“Now come on! There’s a couple dying to meet you!”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Lydia crawled up the lawn behind Betelgeuse. “When did I become so weak?” It used to take a lot more than a measly bike ride, a sandworm, and some swimming to tire her out.

“You were choking. Maybe some water is still in there.” He laughed. “Maybe you'll die of pneumonia!”

She shoved Betelgeuse. “That’s not funny. And I'm still mad at you. Now give me some dry clothes!”

He zapped her soaked school uniform into a dry black jumper and a red cobweb-patterned poncho. Lydia bunched her old Netherworld poncho in her hands. It may have only been a few months, but she missed it. It was like another skin.

“My hair is still wet.”

Rolling his eyes, he zapped a hairdryer into existence that started blowing her hair. Once it was dry, it disappeared. Lydia ran her fingers through her hair, trying to detangle and smooth it.

“It looks fine. Now come on!” He gruffly took her hand and dragged her to the door.

“Geez, what’s your problem!” Betelgeuse had never been known for his manners, but he used to at least be a little nicer to her. Did this communication block really upset him that much? If anyone had a right to be mad, it was her! Maybe something went wrong that caused that incantation to glitch, but Lydia knew for a fact he was the one ignoring her first. He had flicked her off, and turned away when she tried to reach him! From there it seemed no one could reach anyone. But then, Betelgeuse was probably lying to cover his tracks. He was the jerk!

“Will you just shut up.” He muttered, opening the door.

“Excuse me!”

He hissed, “Hush,” and pulled her through the door.

“Betel—” Lydia started, but she was cut off by another voice.

“Mister Beetleman! How nice of you to drop by. Have you come to check out my latest crea—” A redheaded woman turned the corner and froze.

“Delia?” Lydia couldn't believe it. Dressed in one of her classic eccentric black garments and a chalk-powdered apron was her step-mom! Lydia never thought she could be so happy to see her!

“Lydia?”

Like some corny movie, they ran to each other. “Mom!” Lydia hugged her. She didn't care if she got covered in chalk.

“Charles, come quick!” Delia yelled. “Quick Charles! It’s Lydia!”

“I’m coming!” He turned the corner and saw them both. “Lydia!”

Delia waved him over to join the hug.

“Dad!”

“What are you doing here, pumpkin?” Charles asked once the hug was over.

“You didn't kill yourself by accident in one of your stupid suicide threats, did you!” Delia snatched Lydia’s arm, tugged her glove off, and examined her wrist.

Lydia groaned. “No. I haven't done that since Barbara… And I've never cut myself!” If Lydia was going to commit suicide, she wanted to feel the sensation of flying, not razors.

Yanking herself out of Delia’s hold, Lydia took her glove back and put it on.

“You never know,” said Delia with her nose in the air.

“Lydia, are you dead?”

“No, I'm not dead. I've been coming here a long time. I’m sure Betel—wait, Delia, did you call him Beetleman?”

Delia looked at Lydia confused “Yes?”

Lydia turned to Betelgeuse. She was so furious with him that she hadn’t notice he zapped himself into the greedy Otherworld “entrepreneur.” “You mean you haven't told them!”

“Told them what?”

“That you're Betelgeuse! The Dead Guy! ‘Ghost with the Most’! Tried to scare us from our own house and marry me!”

He chuckled. “Heh, kids and their imaginations! Can’t get enough of it!” He ruffled Lydia’s hair. She shoved him away.

“Wait, you're the tyrant that haunted our house!” Delia yelled. “You inspired some of my best work!” Lydia was baffled. Was Delia enraged or overzealous with thanks?

Smirking, Betelgeuse said, “I have that effect on some people.” Lydia elbowed him. “Hey!”

As if stung by bees, Charles’s face swelled red with anger. His mouth scrunched into a little “o” and his ruby cheeks deflated as he shook his finger and yelled, “You're the guy that almost killed me! You-you-you—!”

“Charles!” Delia grabbed his shoulder. “Breathe. Your nerves.”

“My nerves don’t matter anymore, Delia! I’m dead! All thanks to that guy!”

“Charles,” Delia moaned. “That happened years ago. I’m not too happy about it either, but he’s been a good host. I mean, just look at all the art I've done! And think of all the times he’s helped us as Beetleman!”

“Good host?” Lydia thought. Betelgeuse was more like a parasite to most people. A mooch.

“Yeah, uh, no hard feelings, Chucky,” Betelgeuse tapped Charles’s arm. “Just part of the job description.” He snorted. “You know how it is.”

“Was inspiring my wife to create a statue that killed her part of that ‘description’! Was making Lydia an orphan part of that ‘description’ too!” Betelgeuse removed his hand. “You've made my life a living hell, and now you've not only taken away the life of me and Delia, but you've ruined what’s left of Lydia’s childhood! I wanted to see Lydia off to college! Walk her down the aisle!”

“Well, you’ve been to one of her weddings.” Betelgeuse tittered. “Once you've seen one, you've seen ‘em all, am I right?”

Lydia pulled on Betelgeuse’s arm and sharply whispered, “Not a good time to joke, Betelgeuse!”

“Just tryin’ to lighten the mood, babes,” he muttered back in defense.

“You listen here, buster!” Charles snatched Betelgeuse by the shirt and yanked him over. “You stay away from my daughter!”

“Dad, that’s not necessary.”

“Pumpkin,” he snapped, “this isn’t you’re place!”

“Yeah, but Dad—” There was a knock at the door.

“Uh, can someone get that?” Betelgeuse asked. “I’m, uh, a little ‘hung-up,’ if ya know what I mean.”

“I’ll get it!” Delia ran to the door and opened it. “Yes?”

“Is Betelgeuse here?”

“Um, well, he’s—” Delia looked over at Charles.

“Let them in.” He let go of Betelgeuse, and two policemen pushed passed Delia.

“Are you Betelgeuse?” asked the bigger of the policemen. He had dark blue skin. The other looked normal, with the exception of a shot wound through the chest of his uniform.

“Uh, you've got the wrong guy!” Betelgeuse brushed invisible dust from his shirt. “I’m 'Beetleman.' Easy mistake.”

“Address says a mister Betelgeuse lives here.”

“That’s him!” Lydia’s dad pointed. “Arrest the culprit for whatever crime he’s done. You know what, let me arrest him! I'll do it for you!”

“Way to go, snitch.” Betelgeuse grumbled before turning into himself. Lydia could hear Delia moan “ew” behind her. “What do ya want?”

“We have witnesses saying you drove a sandworm to the Otherworld?”

“Yeah, so? I've accidently brought a sandworm or two to the other side before, what’s the big deal?”

“This wasn't accidental. We were told it was on purpose. And we know when your name’s involved, it’s to cause havoc.”

“Hey, that Maitland girl sent one on me, and she never got in trouble!”

“That’s because she set it on you.”

Betelgeuse groaned. “I didn’t cause no trouble! The sandworm was after my house!”

The policeman pointed at the door. “Isn't that a sandworm outside? Got a collar on it. It’s not attacking your property.”

“That one didn’t attack his house!” Lydia yelled. “It’s his pet!”

“So you're training them now?”

“What!” Causing havoc and lying about it was nothing new for Betelgeuse, but even that accusation was startling.

“Betelgeuse isn’t training them! He’s afraid of them!”

“Then how do you explain his ‘pet’?”

“I made him save Wormy”—now Sandy—“from some hunters when it was just a baby. It’s the only sandworm he can tolerate. And one of the only things that can tolerate him.” But even the loving Sandy freaked Betelgeuse out. Lydia could tell from the massive chain. It wasn't there to prevent Sandy from running away (if memory served, Sandy would do almost anything for Betelgeuse); it was to keep Sandy a safe distance away. But Betelgeuse secretly liked him. She knew he did, even if Sandy was all grown up and appeared more menacing now.

“And how do you explain him riding the sandworm to the Otherworld?”

“First off, he wasn't ‘riding’ the sandworm, he was holding on to its tail; secondly, he was trying to stop it. And I helped him. I called his name, and we all came here.”

“You’re that living girl,” he said a bit surprised. “Alright then, where is the sandworm now?”

“Um,” Lydia glanced at Betelgeuse. “We don’t know.”

“Mm-hmm… Betelgeuse, we’ll be taking you with us.”

Lydia couldn't believe this! “On what charges!”

“Lydia, sweetie,” Charles pat her shoulder, “let the cop do his job.”

“No! He has no right to take Betelgeuse! He did nothing wrong!” Of all the stupid things they could arrest him for, why choose this! He and Lydia had been through similar scenarios before, and no one ever believed Betelgeuse’s innocence, and if they did, they wanted him punished for some other crap he'd pulled.

“The only Otherworld witness you have is me, and I can tell you he didn't cause any havoc. In fact, he saved me! That means you have no grounds to arrest him!” Lydia seized Betelgeuse’s arm. “BetelgeuseBetelgeuseBetelgeuse!”

They evaporated from site.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Lydia let go of Betelgeuse’s arm and walked away.

“Sooo, now what?”

“How about ‘Thanks, babe! That was a close one!’?”

He snorted.

“I had half-a-mind to let the cop take you!”

“Oh come on, Lyds! How can you still be upset?”

“Oh, let me see!” Lydia picked up her bike again and put her fallen books back into the basket. “You tried to sabotage another date, flicked me off instead of talking about it, ignored my calls, and when I really needed you, you weren't there!”

“It was just a stupid date. No one got hurt.”

“I’m not mad about the date, Betelgeuse! I'm pissed that you ignored me! My dad was in the hospital suffering from a heart attack, and I was terrified! I've never been so scared!” And Lydia had been through a lot of scary shit (even if some of it wasn't always frightening to her). “You're my best friend! You should have been there for me! But instead you were too proud and bitter to give a damn!”

“I told you,” he tossed his hands up, “I tried reaching you, but you ignored me! When I saw Chuck and Delia, I tried to let you know.”

“But I wasn't ignoring you. I blocked you so you'd stop bothering me on my date. That was it.” During her date, Lydia excused herself, went to the restroom, checked to see if she was alone, yelled at Betelgeuse who claimed her date was lame, and said the chant to close the door. The next day, she chanted the door open again, but Betelgeuse wanted nothing to do with her.

He grumbled.

“Oh forget it!” Lydia hopped on her bike and started peddling. “You're just an ungrateful pri—” She skidded to a halt. “What the hell! Betelgeuse, look at this!”

Hands shoved in his pockets, he walked over. “Whoa.” There was a huge pit where the Sandworm had sprung from. They both looked over the edge.

“You can see right into the Netherworld!” Of all Lydia’s hopping between realms, she had never encountered something like this. “How did it happen?”

He shrugged. “Beats me, toots.”

“BJ.” He knew Lydia didn't like being called that—by anyone. “Babes,” was fine, but “toots” made her feel like a piece of chewed up candy.

He shrugged her comment off, spitting into the hole.

Lydia shook her head. “Nice… Say, how come we couldn't see the Otherworld from down there?”

Shrugging again, he said “Eh, a cloud?”

It was pretty cloudy. "Wait, what if someone sees this! Ghosts are going to be able to come and go whenever they please!”

“Most ghosts can't fly that high, babes. Besides, who’s gonna see? Your dad, Jacques?” He snickered. “I think we're safe.”

“Okay, fine, but what about people here? What if someone falls through!”

Betelgeuse huffed and thought. “Yeah, I got nothin’.”

“Um, what about a board?”

“A board?”

“Yeah, you know, a big plank. With clouds painted on one side.”

“Alright.” Pulling up his sleeves, he zapped up a wooden board large enough to cover the hole, a couple paintbrushes, and some buckets of paint. The brushes dipped themselves in the paint and quickly went to work smothering the board in colors to match the Netherworld sky. “Anything else?” asked Betelgeuse with a snarky attitude as he placed the painted board over the hole.

“Yes. Cover it with dirt and grass so that it blends in. There’s plenty of debris from where you two crashed through the ground. You can use that. Or just materialize new stuff.”

“That’s something you can do.”

“That’s not fair! I don't have powers that can do the work for me! And there is no way I can make it look natural!” If left to Lydia, she could make a big dirt pile, but it would look like someone dug up or buried something. What if someone got curious? Maybe Lydia could buy pre-grown grass, but that would look really silly amongst wild grass.

“Yeah, yeah, fine…” With a snap of his fingers, what looked like an excavation site suddenly looked like a normal woodland trail. “Happy?”

“I guess.” Lydia readjusted herself on the bike and peddled over the board. Seemed safe.

“Whoa, where are ya going!” Betelgeuse floated after her.

“To Chloe’s.”

“Who the hell is that?”

“My dad’s sister. I’ve been living with her the past few months.”

“Why?”

Lydia glared at him a moment before turning her attention to the path.

“What!”

“My parents died, Betelgeuse! Where am I supposed to live? An orphanage?”

“Coulda stayed at my place.”

She groaned. They couldn't reach each other. How'd he expects her to bunk at his place?

For a while, they were both quiet. Betelgeuse stopped floating and started walking when they neared the end of the trail. “So what is this place? Not Winter River.”

“Spectral Seaside,” Lydia answered.

“Got a knack for living in alliterations”—the Maitlands house was located on a street called Peaceful Pines— “huh babes?”

“The name might be cool, but it’s boring as hell here, and the people here are awful… They’re all Hell’s-Fire and God’s-Wrath about my style and religious skepticism.” That was an exaggeration, but nevertheless, it ticked Lydia off. She wasn’t a conformist!

“Sounds worse than Winter River.”

“It is!”

“Too bad you couldn’t stay at your parents’ place.”

“I plan on moving back there when I finish school. Don’t know where I’m going to college, but I do know I’m not losing that house. Delia worked so hard on it, and there are too many memories there. Besides, I promised Barbara. I can’t sell it.”

“Why not move back now?”

“I’m not eighteen yet, Betelgeuse. Aunt Chloe won’t have it.” Lydia sighed. “Besides, she’s renting it out.”

“What’s with this aunt Chloe? She sounds like a bitch.”

Lydia sighed. “She’s not. She just doesn’t get me. She thinks I’m messed up because of when my mom died, but I’m not. I’m just me.”

“Why not ditch the broad?” He laughed. “I’ll help you!”

“Thanks, I but can’t. She worries enough as it is.”

Betelgeuse put his hands behind his head. “I don’t get it. Why do you have to stay with her?”

“Because she’s my guardian now. I, legally, can’t be free of her until I’m an adult.”

“What do you mean? You ARE an adult, babes!”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

“What?”

“Nothing… We’re almost there.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Lydia parked her bike around back and grabbed her books. “Come on. Time for Aunt Chloe to meet a family friend.” Lydia walked up the stairs. “BJ, you coming?”

“Uh, I’ll just stay here, babes.”

Lydia scrutinized him. Betelgeuse was fidgeting!

She hopped down the stairs and grabbed his hand. “Come on! There aren’t any sandworms!” She tugged, but he wouldn’t budge. “Betelgeuse!”

“I can’t go, babes!”

“Why not!”

“It’s… blessed.”

“What?” Lydia looked back at the house. “You mean, like, holy water and prayer stuff? Oh, come on! You’re the Ghost with the Most! A little water won’t hurt you!” He was fine earlier today when he cannonballed into the newly formed lake.

“You don’t get it, babes. I can’t enter. My juice won’t penetrate.”

Lydia let go of his hand and crossed her arms. “Phrasing.”

He snickered. “Even if I wanted to, Lyds, I can’t. The house is anti-poltergeist.”

“But I’m inviting you in?”

“I said anti-poltergeist, not anti-vampire. Yeesh, babes, you’re getting sloppy on your Dead Lore!”

“Now what?”

He shrugged. “Wanna go back to my place?”

She moaned. “Yes, but I can’t. Aunt Chloe is expecting me for dinner, and I have class tomorrow.”

“Guess that means you’re not angry anymore?” He smirked.

“Goodbye Betelgeuse. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She waved. “Betelgeuse, Betel—”

“Whoa, wait a sec, babes!”

“Yeah?”

“What if you can’t reach me?”

“Don’t be silly, BJ.”

“Seriously, babes. Think about it. You’re living in a blessed house.”

“You mean that’s why we haven’t been able to reach each other? Because the house has been blessed!”

He nodded.

“That must be why I couldn’t reach you at school either!”

Betelgeuse cringed in repulse. “What schools are blessed?”

“The Catholic ones.”

“You go to a Catholic school? Nice!”

“Don’t make fun, Betelgeuse! The school isn’t that bad. It’s just… different.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Tell you what,” Lydia inched in closer. “I’ll call you tomorrow in the woods where the sandworm attacked. If that doesn’t work, I’ll dig up the plank and dive.”

“Ya sure that’s safe?” Not that he cared about safety all that much, if at all.

“It’s not that bad a jump. A slip off Cliffside is farther. And that ends with jagged rocks!” On her way to school, Lydia would sneak a shovel in the woods in case the chant didn’t work. “Oh, and BJ, can I have my uniform and satchel back?” She had almost forgotten! That would have been embarrassing.

After he zapped Lydia’s uniform and satchel on, she sent Betelgeuse home and went inside.


	2. Mummy Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Flashback] Lydia goes from having no mother to having two!

Flooded  
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)  
Chapter 2: Mummy Dearest

 

“Lydia,” Charles said, “listen to your mother.”

“She’s not my mom! She’s my step-mom!” Lydia was sick of Charles referring to Delia as her “mother.” Her mother was dead! And no matter how many times Charles called Delia “Lydia’s mom,” it wasn’t going to change that. This eccentric redhead was never going to replace her true mother!

“Lydia, apologize to Delia this instant.”

“It’s okay Charles,” Delia butt-in. “I only married into this family. I haven’t earned the right to be respected as the mother of this household. Maybe if I went through eight hours of labor and shot a baby from between my legs, Lydia would change her opinion.”

“Oh right, like you’d ever want to give birth.”

“I give birth every day!”

“Your sculptures don’t count,” Lydia said before running off to her room, slamming the door, and tossing herself on the bed. “No one understands me!” she moaned, covering her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’m half an orphan! Doomed to the autocracy of that she-devil!”

There was a slight rap on the door and Barbara glided in. “Lydia, sweetie?” She sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Lydia’s hair. Lydia looked up at her. “I think you really hurt Delia’s feelings.”

“Delia would have to have feelings to hurt.”

“Lydia.” She shook her head.

Lydia sat up on her knees. “I should have been your daughter! You’re more of a mom than that witch!”

“You don’t mean that. Delia loves you, and you love her.”

“That woman doesn’t know how to love anything accept her ‘art.’”

“That’s not true. You and Charles mean the world to her.”

“Dad maybe, but not me.”

“Remember when… you know?”

Lydia shook her head.

“Oh,” Barbara pinched her lips in thought. “When he was here?”

“Oh.” She meant him. Lydia got the shivers just thinking about the whole ordeal. And it wasn’t easy to give Lydia shivers. “Yeah… I remember.”

“Nothing mattered more to her than your safety.”

Lydia sighed. “Maybe… But Delia never wanted kids.”

“Well, maybe Delia didn’t want kids, but she was blessed with having the best daughter.”

“I don’t know…”

“I do.” Barbara tucked Lydia’s hair behind her ear. “I always wanted kids.”

“Why didn’t you have any?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Because you’re dead?”

“No.” Barbara looked down at the comforter. “Adam and I thought about adopting since I couldn’t get pregnant, but…”

“Then you died?”

“Yes… Then your family moved in.”

“And you tried to kick us out,” Lydia nudged her.

“Well, yeah,” Barbara giggled. “But I couldn’t go through with it. You’re like a daughter to me, Lydia.”

“I really should have been your kid!”

Barbara sighed. “Lydia, trust me, Delia feels the same way for you that I do.”

“She has a funny way of showing it.”

“No. She has a different way of showing it. You may have lost one mother, Lydia, but you gained two, plus Adam. You’re not half an orphan. You’re a treasured daughter.” Barbara kissed the top of Lydia’s head. “Now I think someone is owed an apology.”

Lydia groaned, “Okay,” and got up.

“Oh, and Lydia.”

“Yeah?” she said, already at the door.

“Call her ‘mom.’ I think she’d like that.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Um, Delia?” Lydia walked into the art studio.

“What is it Lydia? Can’t you see I’m working?”

“I, uh,” she rubbed her arm, “wanted to apologize… for earlier…”

“Don’t bother. I know I could never be the mother to you that Ida was.”

“That’s just it,” she said looking at the ground. “I always thought that by calling you mom, I was replacing my birth mom… I didn’t want to admit she was dead.”

“Lydia, we live in a haunted house! You’d think the whole dead thing would be a moot point!”

“I know… I just realized that… Well, I’ve been treating you like an evil step-mother when I should have been treating you like the mom you are... my mom.”

Delia turned around, chisel in hand. “Oh, Lydia! Do you really mean it?”

She nodded. “Yeah… I may have lost a mom, but I gained two great ones.”

“Oh!” Delia skipped over and hugged Lydia, covering her black dress in powder. “Why don’t you grab an apron and join me!”

“But… I thought you liked working alone?”

“Well we’re about to make a marvelous mother-daughter sculpture to celebrate this moment! What do you think? Should we use clay for this one? I think it would be the perfect medium!”

“Sure. Sounds nice.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Here.” Lydia handed Barbara a little gray figure.

“What’s this?” Barbara examined the hardened clay after taking it from Lydia. “Oh, it’s two bats!”

“It’s a mom and baby Pteropus. It’s us…” Lydia thought if Delia and her had a special mother-daughter statuette, then she and Barbara should have one too. “I know it’s not the best sculpture, but—”

Barbara threw her arms around Lydia. “Oh, it’s perfect! I’ll cherish it always!”


	3. Delia’s Delights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia's art is a Netherworld sensation and BJ's her manager--but he's not a fan of her customers.

Flooded  
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)  
Chapter 3: Delia’s Delights

 

The moment the last bell rang, Lydia darted out of the classroom, pushing past her peers. She didn’t care if she bumped into them. Today, she was going to see her parents again! Her friends! Even if it meant digging up the plank and taking a dive, she was going to see them. She had to see them!

When she reached the spot in woods, she picked up the shovel, hoping she wouldn’t have to use it. “Betelgeuse,” she gulped. “Betelgeuse.” Her hand tightened around the wooden handle. “Betelgeuse.”

Nothing.

Lydia’s heart sank. No. This couldn’t be happening! Maybe if she tried again? “Betelg—” A hand covered her mouth.

“Watch it babes! You trying to send me back! He removed his hand. “Geeze, you can’t be sick of me already!”

She dropped the shovel and turned around. “Betelgeuse!”

“Hey! I told you to be careful!”

“Why didn’t you show? I thought—Where were you!”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to surprise ya.”

Lydia popped his arm. “You idiot! I thought it didn’t work! Do you know how long shoving would have taken me! I’m not a grave digger! Don’t do that!”

He shrugged. “I thought it’d be funny.”

She hit him again. “Well it wasn’t! You had me scared!”

“Heh,” he laughed. “So it worked then!” Maybe not the way he intended, but he still got a fright out of her.

Lydia hit his arm a third time.

“Alright! Stop with the hitting! I’m gonna bruise!”

“You’re dead.”

“So!”

Lydia rolled her eyes and hooked arms with him. “Let’s go, you wussy.”

Betelgeuse flicked her on the head.

“Ow! You ass!”

“So are we going, babes?”

After sighing over his stupidity, Lydia said his name.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“WHAT THE HELL!” Betelgeuse shouted. “What is he doing here!”

Delia peaked around the giant mass of her ghost guest. “Beetle-er-you’re back! This is—”

“I know who it is! Why is he in my house!”

“Oh, he’s a client!”

“What, you’re a hooker now!”

Lydia slapped his arm. “Beetlejuice!”

“What!”

The Monster—that’s what everyone called him because of his huge size, booming voice, and massive hog motorcycle—turned around to greet Betelgeuse and Lydia. “You never told me THE Delia Deetz was a guest of yours! What an honor it must be, having such a fine lady in your premises.”

“Yeah, yeah. A great honor,” Betelgeuse waved him off. “Now tell me, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!”

“Oh,” The Monster laughed. “She’s making my little lady a present. Must be where all Lydia’s talent comes from.”

Lydia blushed, not sure what to say.

“Whoa, hold up now. You mean she’s making a deal without me!”

Delia asked “Why wouldn’t I?”

“No offence babes, but I’m the one who’s been managing your art down here! You’d be nothing without me!”

Huffing, Delia crossed her arms. “My art’s been doing prodigiously well where I’m from!”

“Yeah, well it wouldn’t be nothing without me here! You don’t know anything about Netherworld business! This ain’t your husband’s domain anymore, babes!”

She tossed her head as if to flip the curls plastered on her forehead. “Then what do you propose we do?”

“Spilt the profits seventy-five, twenty-five.”

Lydia interjected, pulling on his sleeve, “Betelgeuse, you can’t extort my mother like that!”

“Fine, sixty-five percent of the profits will go to me, and the rest can go to DD.”

“DD?”

“Your mom.”

“Betelgeuse, that still isn’t fair!”

“It’s plenty fair, babes! Your mom’s a huge success, and has been for some time. Her shit—” Lydia coughed “— ‘art’ isn’t going anywhere.” Betelgeuse turned his attention back to The Monster. “As long as it’s SCARES!”

“Oh, what’s a little commission amongst friends,” Delia asked.

“FRIENDS!”

Lydia tugged on his sleeve again. “Betelgeuse, stop.”

“Lydia,” her mom scolded her, “let us adults discuss business!” Lydia couldn’t believe this. Did Delia actually shut Lydia up in favor of Betelgeuse? Did Lydia miss something?

“Beetleman, I’m making this sculpture.”

“But—”

“You can help me decide the final price and discuss business with Charles. My job is designing a marvelous sculpture for this man’s anniversary! Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to get back to work.” Delia spun on her heels, waved The Monster to follow her, and sashayed out of the room.

“You’re lucky she agreed to keep you as manager.”

“I can’t believe she’s working with him!”

“Oh please, he’s not that bad a guy. You on the other hand…” Lydia giggled.

“Eh, Shut-up,” he mumbled.

“Why, so you can cheat my mom out of more money?”

“She’s famous—because of ME!”

“That’s the problem, Beej; Give her some credit. It’s Delia’s art. It’s a part of her. I’m sure she’s thankful for what you’ve done”—why else would she let this con do business with Charles— “but you can’t go insulting her work, and you certainly can’t boss Delia around!”

He grumbled, “I can do what I want.”

“Not to my parents!”

They were silent.

“Want to go out?” Betelgeuse glared at the room Delia and The Monster went into. “It’s a little crowded here.”

Lydia shrugged. “I guess… Hey, can we pick up Ginger and Jac! I haven’t seen them forever!” she groaned.

“Eh, yeah, sure. Whatever, babes.” He opened the door for her and slammed it shut behind him.


	4. Poltergeist Persecution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BJ meets Lydia's aunt. Let's just say BJ got along a lot nicer with his three "Ants."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you spot the foreshadowing? ;D

Flooded   
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)   
Chapter 4: Poltergeist Persecution

 

“You’re late again, Lydia!” Chloe yelled as her niece walked through the backdoor.

Lydia set her books on the breakfast table. “What’s for dinner?”

“Lydia, this is getting ridiculous! Where have you been!”

“I told you, I’ve been studying in the woods.”

“It’s nightfall!”

Lydia crossed her arms. “I have a flashlight.”

“No more late-nights, Lydia! I mean it!”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “I’m perfectly safe. It’s not like one of these bible-heads is going to kidnap or kill me.”

Chloe slapped her across the face. Lydia stood there stupefied. No one had ever slapped her before. Not even Betelgeuse who was quite fond of popping women’s rears. “I just lost my brother! I don’t need to be worried about losing my niece too! Come home!”

Lydia sat down and let her satchel fall from her shoulder.

“And that’s not the only thing! One of your classmates came by. They said they’ve seen you hanging out with some strange man!”

Betelgeuse. “Oh, um… about that…” Her aunt sat down next to her, awaiting the explanation. “He’s a family friend. He came into town to checkup on me.”

“And you didn’t bother telling me this why?”

“Well, he wasn’t staying here, so I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Lydia, I need to know where you are! Who you’re with! What if something happens!”

“Mr. Beetleman is a close friend of my parents. They wouldn’t care. They’d be happy if they knew.”

“Well,” Chloe sat back, “if that’s the case, I want to meet him.”

Lydia looked up at her aunt. Her? Meet Betelgeuse! “Why?”

“Oh Lydia, please. Wipe the worry off your face.” As she pat Lydia’s arm, Lydia twitched. “It’s just lunch.”

“L-Lunch?”

“What did you think?”

“You don’t mean lunch here, do you?”

“Lydia, what has gotten into you? I understand the moping; I’ve been lenient with your wardrobe. What else is wrong?”

“N-nothing! I just… why can’t we eat out? That way everyone can order what they want, and you don’t have to cook an unplanned meal!”

Chloe shook her head. “Fine, we can eat—”

“Italian!” Lydia shouted. Italian was about the only way she was going to get Betelgeuse to not make a bug out of his meal.

“I was going to say ‘out,’ but okay.” Chloe stood up. “I would go ahead and invite him, but since you’re the one in contact with him, you can have the honor.”

Lydia nodded in agreement.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Lydia yanked on the powder blue skirt of her “nice dress.” “Where is that the bastard?” she muttered. She had called his name outside the restaurant; it wasn’t blessed! There should be no problem. Where was he!

“So who is this friend of your parents?” Duane asked. “The Mister Beetlllle…?”

“Man,” Lydia finished. “It’s Mr. Beetleman.”

“Ah, right. What a strange name.”

“Not as strange as ‘Deetz’,” a familiar voice laughed.

“Where were you!” Lydia yelled. She would have stood, but her aunt was in the way.

“What? Had to freshen up, b—” Lydia coughed. “Had to freshen up.”

“Well it’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Beetleman.” Chloe held out her hand to shake, but Betelgeuse sat down next to her husband instead of taking it. Chloe awkwardly put her hands on her lap. “Shall we pray?”

Betelgeuse looked at Lydia. “Seriously?”

Before Chloe spoke up, Lydia answered. “Beetleman is a,” she thought, “Buddhist! So he doesn’t pray. Uh, not like we do.”

“Well—” Chloe began, but Lydia kept going.

“Let’s pray in silence.”

“Okay?” After looking at Lydia as if she just came from the loony-bin, Chloe folded her hands and closed her eyes, as did her husband. Lydia pretended to do the same, but peaked out from under her lashes to watch Betelgeuse. He put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist. With his other hand, he rapped the table with his red fingers. Lydia would have kicked him, but he was too far; she might kick Chloe or Duane by mistake.

When they finished, Lydia took a piece of bread and they ordered. It was silent until the food arrived: fish for her aunt; lasagna for her uncle; calamari for Lydia’; and, of course, spaghetti for Betelgeuse.

“So,” Chloe broke the silence, also breaking into her fish. “Lydia tells me you were close with her parents?”

“Yeah,” Betelgeuse shrugged a mouthful of pasta in his mouth.

“How did you meet?”

He swallowed, resisting the urge to make a pun of her sentence. “Eh, doing carpenter work on their house. You know. Not many people willing to work on that place.”

“What did you think of my brother’s house?”

Betelgeuse shrugged. “Not too shabby. Delia did quite a number on it. Really improved the look.”

“You… think so?”

“Eh.” He shrugged again, shoving more food in his mouth, tomato sauce dripping off his fork and onto the glass-covered tablecloth. Embarrassed, Lydia put her hand on her head. This wasn’t going well.

“How are you liking your meal,” Duane asked.

Betelgeuse shrugged again. “Fine… You know what’s really good!” Oh no. “Salad!”

“But you hate salad!” Lydia said. Anything green—that was healthy—was off the menu for Betelgeuse.

“Not that kinda salad, Lyds.” He laughed. “Bee salad! They keep the critters whole and crunchy! Nothin’ beets it, except of course—”

“I don’t think my aunt and uncle are really interested in hearing about… uh, exotic foods.”

“So you’ve eaten… bees?”

“Sure, toots!” Sauce flung from his fork and splattered onto the table near Chloe’s plate. “I’ve tried all kinds’a stuff, being a travelin’ entrepreneur and all. I recommend the grasshopper chips when ya get the chance! Crisp and spicy! Better than that potato shit here.”

“Did you know,” Lydia spoke up, hoping to salvage the conversation, “that insects are an extremely nutritious protein and low in calories, making them a popular dietary option in other countries!”

“Very fascinating,” Chloe droned, not caring about the health benefits of creepy-crawlies; she might look like Pumbaa, but she was no bug-eater!

Betelgeuse opened his mouth to speak, but Lydia sliced her throat with her finger, signaling him to stop. He did, slopping another spoonful of spaghetti into his pie-hole instead.

After a long period of them eating in awkward silence, Chloe resumed the conversation. “You know, you’re not at all the type of person I envisioned my brother being friends with.”

“Heh,” he snorted, “thanks, babes.” Chloe was not at all amused. “I was a little closer with Delia. Worked out some deals, if you know what I mean.”

Chloe gasped. “I think I do!” She scooted out of the both. “Lydia!” She yelled, leaning over and seizing Lydia’s arm. “Come with me! You are not to see this, this home-wrecker again!” She yanked on Lydia, causing her niece to bang the bottom of the table with her hip, almost spilling a drink. Chloe tugged again, this time forcing Lydia to slide across the pleather bench in order to get out.

Betelgeuse leaned over the table and snatched the arm which held Lydia. “Let go of her!”

“Excuse me!”

“You can’t treat Lyds like this!” If the people in the restaurant weren’t staring before, they sure were now. Maybe Lydia should have suggested a picnic in the backyard instead?

“Lydia is none of your concern! You may have thought you could feign being Delia’s husband, but no amount of pretending is going to make you Lydia’s step-father!”

“Well if I was her father, I’d sure as hell be treating her better than you do!”

Chloe tried to pull away from his grasp, still holding onto her niece. “As if I would let Lydia into your hands! A meatball-eating Buddhist with fewer manners than a Neanderthal!”

“At least I’m not a hoity-toity twat who’d sooner bang her bible than her husband!” Betelgeuse eyed the manager coming to escort them out as Chloe gasped, appalled at such language.

As Lydia’s aunt was about to speak, Betelgeuse zapped a waiter nearby —which only Lydia noticed—to drop his try on Chloe, dousing her pretty pink dress in soda, bear, and iced water.

Chloe shrieked, finally managing to escape Betelgeuse’s hold on her. “Why, I never in all my life! Honey, we’re going! Now!”

Chloe’s husbanded tentatively tapped on Betelgeuse’s arm. Betelgeuse moved so he could squeeze by.

As Chloe dragged Lydia away, Betelgeuse shouted, “Leaving already, toots? We were just getting started!”

“Beetleman,” Lydia shouted back. “Not now!”

“But, babes—”

Chloe tugged on Lydia’s arm so she would speed up. “Later, Beetleman!”

When Lydia had gone, Betelgeuse plopped back down and was handed the check. “Great. Now I’m left here and with the check… bleck.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“He was right about you! You ARE a bitch!” Lydia ran up to her room—what used to be the attic until it was converted into a guest room—and locked the door.

Lydia couldn’t believe this. How could her aunt be so cruel! Chloe was just looking for an excuse to hate Mr. Beetleman! She didn’t even know him!

And Betelgeuse! He knew about her aunt; they went over how he needed to act during dinner. Why did he have to act like a slob, a jerk! Lydia knew he had manners harbored somewhere inside that rotting corpse of his. Why would he behave like that? 

It didn’t matter. Aunt’s approval or not, Lydia wasn’t going to stop hanging out with Betelgeuse, even if that meant traveling to the Netherworld more often. She NEEDED to travel to the Netherworld! That’s where her REAL family was!

Delia, her dad, Ginger, Jac, Doom, Beej—they were her family. Not her prude aunt Chloe and her uncle Duane whose timidity rivaled Charles’s nerves! Why did Chloe even agree to be Lydia’s godmother? Why did she accept becoming her guardian? She obviously didn’t want her.

Lydia might as well be kidnapped or killed. It’d free aunt Chloe from her charity. To keep being a burden here, why, why it was a disservice to these people, like being forced to harbor a criminal! Leaving would be the kindest thing Lydia ever did!

But then… Chloe did care. Maybe she didn’t show it in the way Lydia wanted, maybe she didn’t really “get” Lydia, but Chloe was trying. After all, it was partly Lydia’s fault… She was the one going out without telling Chloe, and Lydia was hanging out with some stranger Chloe never met.

Maybe she didn’t approve of Lydia’s clothes or friends, but it was only because Chloe wanted what she thought was best for Lydia, even if Lydia disagreed. Chloe just wanted Lydia nearby.

Safe.

Lydia turned onto her stomach and hugged her pillow. She missed her fraidy-cat, Percy. Her friends at Winter River. Her nervous, bird-watching dad. Her step-mother’s yelling and constant redecorating. Adam’s tutoring and lame jokes. Barbara’s sweet hugs and advice. Her birth mom…

Even when Lydia visited her parents, Charles and Delia weren’t quite the same now that they were dead, in the Netherworld, knowing her secret. Everything had changed…

Nothing felt right anymore.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Sorry about not calling last night to send you home.” Betelgeuse shrugged. “I was really upset with… well, everything. I’m not really sure what to think.”

“Babes, why don’t you just come back with me? Skip school. Fuck, skip life! Let’s blow this joint! God, or whoever, knows this place already blows! Whad’ya say?”

Lydia looked down at the concreate. “No. I mean, I don’t know… Beej, I can’t make that kind of decision.”

“What do’ya mean you,” he air-quoted, “‘can’t make that kind’a decision’? It didn’t stop ya when we met.”

“Beej, not now. I don’t feel good.”

He put his hand on her head. “Seem fine to me, babes.” She swatted him off as he laughed.

“Beej, I’ve been… suicidal again. I almost killed myself that day at Cliffside. With the worm.”

“So?”

Lydia sighed. “You never did get it…”

“All I know, babes, is that ever since we became friends, you haven’t wanted to cross-over. I don’t get it; the first time we met, it was because you WANTED out!”

“The first time we met, you were a giant snake that almost killed my dad.”

“Eh-heheh.” Smirking, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t exactly call that ‘meeting.’ But you gotta admit, I did leave a pretty great impression.”

Annoyed, Lydia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, great…”

“Babes?”

“Just forget it, Beej. I don’t want to talk about this.” As weird as it was, his obnoxious jokes and attempts to make her feel better usually gave Lydia hope that, maybe, just maybe, living wasn’t all that bad.

Lightheartedly encouraging her death, though? That wasn’t funny. Death was a HUGE decision, a decision that Lydia was too emotionally jeopardized to make. Once the choice was made, there was no going back, yet the severity of the matter somehow eluded Betelgeuse, and that stung.

“I get it, babes.”

“No you don’t! Just shut up!”

He spoke anyway. “You want to disappear. Dying ain’t gonna do that. You know it isn’t an escape, especially with your folks down there and all. You don’t think I’ve felt like I wanted to disappear? Believe me, babes; once you’ve been in a sandworm’s gut, you want nothin’ but to disappear! Swimmin’ in that shit ain’t fun!”

“Disappearing does sound awfully good right now…”

“Heheh,” he chuckled. “See! I told ya I—” Betelgeuse stopped.

Lydia looked behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, blessed property. Can’t exactly, ya know, haunt.”

“Oh, right.” Lydia had just walked onto the school’s front yard. “Want me to call?”

“Nah, I’ll just wait for ya.” Betelgeuse crossed his arms and smirked, eyeing the people walking by. “Lots of suckers I can mess with while you’re gone—eh, just don’t become GONE gone, kay babes? I don’t want to be stuck here!”

“Sure,” Lydia rolled her eyes again, somehow managing a smile, and continued off to school.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Oh no. “Beetleman!” Lydia shouted. “Beetleman!” Where the hell was he now! This was an emergency! “Beetle—”

“I’m here, I’m here! Quit your hollerin’!”

“You’ve gotta go!”

“What?”

“Some of my classmates, they—” Lydia looked around, grabbed Betelgeuse by his blazer and tugged him behind a tree to insure they were out of site. “They’re onto you.”

He scoffed. “Please? These idiots!”

“Shh!” Lydia glanced around the tree, then back at him. “You know the Salem Witch Trials? Well, this is becoming the Spectral Seaside Poltergeist Persecution! I overheard it in the girl’s restroom. Someone saw me go into the woods with a shovel. Apparently, one of them followed me after school and saw you! Betelgeuse, this is bad! Really, REALLY bad! The town hasn’t been looking at us funny because, well, you’re weird and I’m strange. They’ve been watching you—us! They think I summoned you from Hell!”

“Heh,” he laughed. “Hell, huh? I can show ‘em hell!”

Lydia yanked on his blazer, tugging him down. “Not funny! You’re in danger! And I’m in huge trouble! You have to go!”

Betelgeuse pulled her arm off him. “The hell I’m leaving you here after what your aunt did.”

Lydia looked down. “Betelgeuse, she… she didn’t do anything… I overreacted.”

“Bullshit.”

Lydia groaned. They didn’t have time for this! “Sorry!” She shoved him back and ran off. Before Betelgeuse could react to what happened, she chanted his name, sending him to the Netherworld. “Sorry Beej,” she whispered. “But I can’t risk it.”

After all the people Lydia lost, she couldn’t lose him too. If he got caught, it’d be all Lydia’s fault. She couldn’t be the one responsible of another death. Not after her mother.

Lydia couldn’t let that happen again!

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

A rapping at the door woke Lydia. “It’s Sunday!” Harder knocking. “Time to get ready for church!”

Moaning, Lydia covered her head with the blanket. “I don’t do church… I do sleeping in…”

“Lydia, up!”

“Can’t you just go without me?”

Chloe banged on the door. “You have twenty minutes! Now hurry up or you’re grounded!”

“I’m already grounded,” Lydia groaned. “I’m buried underground! Suffocating on dirt! Choking!”

“Twenty minutes.” Lydia could almost see Chloe’s gray eyes rolling on her doughy cheeks like misplaced olives on raw pizza, sick of Lydia’s melodrama.

Before flinging the sheets off and forcing herself to crawl out of bed and to the wardrobe, Lydia listened to her aunt’s heals clicking on the wooden stairs. Chloe would want her to wear something bright and perky for church. Ick.

Lydia pulled out one of her few red dresses to wear. If her aunt had a problem with it, then she could send Lydia back to bed! That’s where Lydia belonged. Asleep. In a garden bed. Of poppies. Sweet, red poppies. Just like her pills.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Shit!” Lydia clutched her cat keychain to shut it up.

“Lydia, was that Beetleman’s voice I heard?” Chloe looked around.

“If it was, he wasn’t talking to me.”

“Huh? Well come on; let’s find a seat.” The church was hosting some annual fundraising brunch at the local park. It was the first one Lydia ever attended and her aunt and uncle wanted her making a good impression.

“Actually, can I go to the car really fast? I left my… lip gloss in it.”

Chloe dug in her purse and pulled out the keys. “I’ll save you a seat.”

“Thanks!” Lydia snatched the keys and ran to the car. Once in it, she released her keychain.

“You tryin’ to suffocate me!”

“You’re dead. You’ll live.” He coughed. “You know what I mean, BJ. What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t come down in a while, babes.”

“I’d have to summon you, and you know why I can’t do that.”

“Exactly! That’s why I’m in your pussy, babes.”

Lydia glared him. “Seriously, wording.”

He chuckled. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Ya sure you don’t want to ditch?”

“I can’t.”

“Oh come on, babes! Pleeeeeease! Delia is driving me nuts!”

“I said I can’t, Beej.”

“Well then at least let me stick around. I’m bored as fuck over here!”

“Fine. Just be quite, okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem!”

Lydia got out of the car to join the churchies at their picnic table. Some of her classmates were there. They looked up at her and started snickering as she took her seat next to Chloe. Lydia wondered what it was this time: her style or her being the town witch who summoned a demonic spirit to go shopping with?

“Lydia,” Chloe spoke in a hushed voice. “People are saying that Beetleman is demon you summoned?”

Lydia blushed, clutching her keychain. “What do you expect? He’s a strange guy.”

“Strange? He catcalled my daughter!” The woman across from Lydia shouted.

“So? She’s an adult. It’s not like she hasn’t been hit on by older men before,” Lydia defended. Who was this woman to interrupt her conversation with her aunt?

A girl in her algebra class joined in. “Jack says he saw you summon that guy in the woods after sacrificing a rabbit!”

Lydia stood up. “I’d never sacrifice an animal! Not even a spider!” How could anyone think that of her!

A man on the other end of the table stood up too. “That’s the guy people are calling a demon! He’s the reason people got food poisoning at my diner!”

“That must be why my sister got pneumonia!” another person shouted.

“I bet that car wreck was his fault too!”

“He wouldn’t do, I mean couldn’t do, any of those things! You can’t blame your misfortunes on guy you don’t even know!”

“Lydia is this true?” her aunt asked. “Did you summon a demon?”

“No!”

The girl in her algebra class stood up and slammed her hands on the table, brown hair falling over her shoulders. “Everyone knows you’re a witch! It’s amazing you don’t burst into flames every Sunday! I don’t know why they even invited you to this event!”

“I’m not a witch! I’m a Wiccan! And I don’t sacrifice animals! And I haven’t summoned a demon!” Lydia took a step back. Everyone was suspicious. They weren’t going to burn her at the stake, were they? That was a medieval thing, right? Right?

“He said you summoned him by saying… ‘bug guts, bug juice’?”

“Beetle juice!” Her friend said.

The girl snapped her fingers. “That’s it! Beetle juice!”

“His name is ‘Beetleman’!” Lydia lied. “Betelgeuse is the name of a star.”

“I guess witches are into astrology, then?”

“It’s astronomy!” How was this girl an honors student? “And you can’t summon anything with the name of a star!”

“If he’s really not a demon, then nothing should happen if I say it, right?” Lydia inched farther away. She could feel the heat leaving her face, the cat ears of her keychain stabbing the palm of her hand; hear Betelgeuse muttering “ow!”

“Beetle juice,” the girl glared at Lydia.

“What do you think you’re accomplishing?” Lydia asked. “You’re just making a fool of yourself.”

“Beetle juice,” she continued.

“So now you’re the witch? I thought that was against your religion. Are you sure you want to do this in front of everyone?” Lydia knew her classmates were a bit creeped out by her, but she didn’t know they hated her. This girl might be worse than Claire, the queen bee of her previous school. At least Claire (for the most part) left little, gross Lydia alone.

“Beetle juice!”

“NO!” Lydia opened her hand. Her cat was just a normal keychain again.

“Guess the cat’s outa the bag now, babes.” Betelgeuse appeared beside her and flicked her keychain. Lydia jerked away.

Chloe stood up. “You did summon a demon!”

“He’s not a demon!” Lydia yelled. “He’s just… dead…”

Chloe turned to the table of churchians. “He’s the evil entity that’s been influencing my niece! Father, you have to do something!”

“Wait what!” Betelgeuse snatched Lydia’s shoulders and forced her to look at him. “There’s a priest here! Why didn’t you say anything!

“I thought you knew!”

“Fuck!”

Chloe grabbed Lydia’s arm and yanked her away from Betelgeuse, mumbling a prayer. “Aunt Chloe, stop! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“Yes she does!” The girl from her class took her friend’s hand and the hand of the man beside her. “We’re exorcising the evil you brought here from our town!”

Lydia watched in horror as everyone followed her lead, holding hands.

“Stop! He’s not evil! He’s my friend! Aunt Chloe! Please!”

“Don’t worry, Lydia. We’ll cleanse you as soon you’re free of his influence.”

“Betelgeuse!” Chloe slapped her other hand over Lydia’s mouth.

“That’s it! No more Mister Nice Ghost!” As Betelgeuse rolled up his leave to blast her aunt, the priest skidded in front of Chloe and Lydia. “Da fuck!”

“Your demonic powers are useless here!” the priest shouted. “Now be gone!”

“I don’t think so, daddy-o.” Betelgeuse flung his arm, but zilch happened. He growled, “Okay then. Try this!” He snapped his fingers, but nothing came of it but more praying Christians. “Fuck it! I’ll handle you the old fashioned way!”

“MMM!” Lydia moaned in protest, pulling against her aunt who held her back.

Betelgeuse took a swing at the priest and was blasted away. His back slammed against the ground, stupefying him. Lydia elbowed her aunt in the stomach and broke free. With Cleo’s yelp, Lydia ran to her friend. “Betelgeuse!”

“Lydia, get away from him! You’ll be corrupt!”

“I’m not corrupt! I’m just strange!” she shouted, shielding Betelgeuse with her body. “And he hasn’t done anything wrong! You can’t do this! Chloe, Father, please!”

“You don’t belong here!” The priest yelled at Betelgeuse, mistaking Lydia’s pleas as some form of possession or mind control.

Lydia could see Betelgeuse stand in her peripheral vision. Something was off. She turned around. “Betelgeuse, you’re fading!”

He glanced down at himself and barked, “Shit. No fucking kidding!”

Lydia looked around. They were excising him! “No!” Lydia snatched onto his blazer, quickly spitting out his name before they could complete the exorcist, and vanished.

But they didn’t transport to the Netherworld.

They were trapped.

In Dead End.

 


	5. Circus Oy-Vey!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Flashback] Lydia's tried everything in both handbooks to find her missing ghostly guardians, but when it all fails, she gives up hope and tries something desperate. The problem is... it works!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Ada Sulewska (Adda the Ripper) for her support, encouragement, and help on my "fight" scene.

Flooded  
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)  
Chapter 5: Circus Oy-Vey!

  
Lydia poked the toy car on Adam’s model of the town, watching it skid forward on the makeshift road. It had been two weeks since the Maitlands disappeared. It wasn’t the first time they left for a routine visit to their case-counselor, but this time was different: they didn’t tell Lydia.

One morning, they were gone.

She glanced up. The chalk door that they used to cross over had been whipped away… Why weren’t they back yet? Why didn’t they tell her they were leaving like usual? Did they not like Lydia anymore? Were they finally sick of her, fed-up with sharing their home? Did they even have a choice in leaving? Lydia wished they would have said something before disappearing.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“What the fuck!”

Lydia couldn't believe it. It worked! He was here!

“I was just about to cream those bastards! Where the fuck—?” Betelgeuse turned around, cig clenched between his teeth. “You!”

“Hi,” Lydia mumbled, smothering a cough.

“What the hell do you want! To finish our vows? Sorry, toots, but I’ve moved on! Now send me back; I was in the middle of a game and I ain’t about to lose!”

“Back? You mean to the other side?”

“Yeah, the Netherworld. Now hurry up! I want to get back before my beer gets warm!”

“Um…” Lydia thought. “Not unless you take me with you.”

He pinched his brows together, moving the cig in his mouth. “Didn’t we go through this before, babes? You know, before your girlfriend sent a fucking sandworm on me!”

“Barbara’s my mom, not girlfriend.”

“I thought the red-head was your mom?”

“She is.”

Betelgeuse rolled his eyes. “Listen toots, I ain’t got time for this shit. Send me back!”

“Not unless you take me.” Lydia didn’t call this monster here just so she could send him back. She needed to find Barbara and Adam!

“Why would I do anything for a brat like you?”

“Barbara and Adam are missing, and I need to find them.” What if something bad happened to them? “You’re my last resort.”

“So they’re missing, huh?” He smirked, “Heh, maybe they just ditched this dump because they’re sick of you.”

Lydia looked down at her lap and fisted her skirt in her hands. Maybe he was right. Maybe the Maitlands left because they didn’t love her anymore. Maybe they didn’t want a freak as a substitute daughter?

“Hey,” Betelgeuse snapped his fingers. “Hey!” Lydia glanced up at him. “Maybe there’s somethin’ I can do, but it’s gonna cost ya.”

“What do you want?”

“Got money?” She shook her head. “Damn.” Betelgeuse removed the cig from his mouth and looked around the room.

“So?”

“I’m thinking!”

Lydia waited, watching him examine her belongings. When he started digging through her drawers, she spoke up. “Can you draw a door?”

“Eh, come again?” He picked up one of her shorter skirts and chuckled.

“A door. Adam drew a door with chalk and knocked on it. Can you do that?” It didn’t work when Lydia tried it.

“I’m too advanced for that noob shit.” He threw the skirt on Lydia’s bed. “You should wear this.”

Lydia pushed the skirt aside. “If it’s noob stuff, it should be easy for you.”

“Yeah, well, it ain’t happening.” He resumed to rummaging through her things.

“You can’t, can you? That’s why you have to rely on people calling you.”

“Heh,” he took out one of her bras. “Studs. Who’da thought… 34 B. Eh, could be worse.”

“Can you stop?” Lydia blushed, trying not to breathe the cigarette smoke. “I want to cross over.”

“Heh-heh,” he chuckled, pulling out her purple panties. “Bats for your cat, huh?” He put it in his picket.

Lydia grimaced. “So is that your price? My underwear?”

“What? Eh, no. I’m still thinkin’… So,” he took out a bra that had skeleton handprints on the cups. “You wear these for someone or are ya a solo artist?”

Leaning off her bed, Lydia snatched her bra from him. “I want to find Barbara!” She was sick of this pervert’s grimy fingers touching her undergarments! And she hated that he took her favorite panties, but she wasn’t sure she wanted them back now, and Lydia was too afraid to ask for them.

“You said you like doors, right toots? Why not be mine?”

Lydia pushed her skirt between her legs. “What do you mean?

“You know, babes: be my portal.” Betelgeuse could see that she still didn’t get it. “It’s simple, babes! You say a little incantation that will bind us together, then, whenever you want to travel to the Netherworld, or need a booty call,” he winked, “you call me.”

“Can’t I already do that?”

“Not unless I’m nearby, toots.”

She figured that much when chanting his name didn’t work. “I meant with the Ouija board.”

“Those weeny boards are unreliable pieces of shit. All they do is open a portal near someone. Anyone can tag along or take my place. Heck, if I had seen it, I’da moved the fuck away!”

“So you’re saying I have to be your door to go to the Netherworld?”

“Uh, yeah!”

“So…” Lydia looked at her Ouija board. “What’s the incantation?”

He smiled and sat down next to her, shoving the board off her bed. “Repeat after me!”

Though I know I should be weary,  
Still I venture someplace scary,  
Ghostly Hauntings I turn loose…

“Now Say my name, babe!”

“Betelgeuse?”

“That’s it, babes!”

“Betelgeuse.”

He grabbed her wrist. “One more time!”

“Betelgeuse.”

“It’s Showtime!” he shouted as they crossed over.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Lydia stepped away from Betelgeuse and looked around. The place was a mess! And in desperate need of vacuuming... “Barbara said the place was cluttered, but this is disgusting!”

“This is my house.”

Lydia blushed. “Oh… I-I thought we were going to Barbara’s case-worker?”

Betelgeuse took hold of Lydia’s shoulders and spun her around. “There’s the door, babes.” He shoved her forward. “Have fun.”

“But I don’t know where to go.”

“Not my problem.”

She turned back around. “What if I get lost?”

He shrugged.

“How will I get home?”

“Ugh!” Betelgeuse pushed his hair back. “You’re not gonna stop, are you?” She only looked at him. “Alright, alright, I’ll accompany ya!” He herded her out of the door.

“Deadly Voo!”

“Deadly who-now?”

“So this is the Netherworld! Cool!” The sky was orange and pink with eternal twilight, the trees twisted with curling branches, and the streets zigzagged and swirled into the air with no support beams. In the distance, eccentric vehicles of every design and color whizzed by. Conformity didn’t seem to be the norm here. Everything was strange and unique! “Why would anyone ever want to leave this place?”

“Eh, you get used to it.”

She looked back at him. “So where do we start?”

“Hell if I know.”

“What about their case-worker, Juno?” That’s where Lydia thought they were going.

“Juno’s their case-worker!”

“Um, yeah, I think that’s her name?” Did he know her?

“Old, short gray hair, smoker, slit throat?” Betelgeuse yanked his head back, snapping his neck, creating a slit. Cigarette smoke started oozing from the wound.

Lydia covered her nose and mouth with her elbow. “Yeah,” she coughed, “that sounds like her.” Lydia had briefly met Juno once.

“Fuck.” He returned to normal, the smoke evaporating, and tossed his cig on the ground, crushing it with his boot.

“What?”

“That bitch was my mentor, you know, until she wrote up a bad report on me got me fired.”

“You worked for Juno?”

“Yeah. What of it?”

“She’d know what to do about the Maitlands, right?”

Another shrug.

“We should go there anyway.” Maybe Juno knew where they were, and if not, she should know that her clients were M.I.A., shouldn’t she?

“No can do, babes.”

“Why?”

“When I was fired, I was kinda,” he shrugged, “banned from the property.”

“What did you do!” It had to be pretty big to get fired AND banned.

“Who said it was anything I did!”

“You were the one banned.”

“So?”

Lydia sighed. “Well, what about the police? You have police here, don’t you?”

“Eh, that won’t work either, toots.”

“Why not?”

“They kinda hate me,” he smirked.

“Why?” She asked, although she had a pretty good idea already.

“A few too many run-ins. Dudes can’t handle a good joke!”

“Is there anyone here that doesn’t hate you!” Lydia needed to find the Maitlands, but she couldn’t do that without a guide. And her guide was a criminal—an outlaw! What if he was the reason they were missing?

“Betelzeuse!” Lydia turned around and gasped at the site of a skeleton walking in their direction. How could he move without any muscles? It was amazing! “Vwhat are yew doing here! I zhought yew vwere out?”

“Yeah, well, plans changed,” he shrugged.

The skeleton glanced at Lydia. “Ah, zhe escort?”

Betelgeuse chuckled.

“I’m not a prostitute!”

“Oh, I veg your pardon!” The skeleton held out his boney hand. “I am Zacques, but yew may call me Zac. Who are yew?”

Timidly, Lydia shook his hand. It was cold. “Lydia.”

“Lydia…” He paused. “Deetz?”

“How did you know!”

Jac broke their handshake and turned to Betelgeuse. “She is living! Yew know zhe rules!”

Betelgeuse shrugged again.

“Wait,” Lydia interjected, “how do you know my name?”

“Eh! Yew are zhe reason we have zhe new casebook!”

“Me?”

He nodded. “Zuno vwent to court to plead zhe Maitland-Deetz case because zhe Maitlands did not vwant to haunt zhe family of zhe girl, Lydia.”

“They went to court—for me?”

“Zust their case-vworker. She is famous now.”

Lydia gasped. “You could talk to her!”

“Ehm, vwhat?”

“I came here looking for Barbara and Adam, but Betelgeu—” Betelgeuse nudged her with his elbow, clearing his throat.

“Careful with the B-name, babes.”

“Well, he,” Lydia gestured to Betelgeuse, “can’t take me to see Juno or the police. Maybe you can?

“I am not her client. She vwon’t see me.”

“Oh…” Lydia looked down. She was never going to find them.

“Maybe zhere is something I can do…”

Lydia perked up. “Really!”

“Yes, but yew voth must hide.”

“No problem!” Betelgeuse snapped his fingers, disguising Lydia and himself.

Lydia touched her hair. The tips were singed. She looked down; the edges of her skirt and blouse were also seared and covered in soot. “My clothes are burnt!”

She heard chuckling. “Well yeah, babes. You’re a victim of a fire.”

Lydia touched her face—it was smooth, but dirty with debris—and sighed in relief.

“Don’t worry, babes, I’m not gonna mess up your pretty face. You’re gonna need it. Everyone pities a pretty dead girl! Heh, just say you choked on smoke or fumes or somethin’.”

“Where are you?” Lydia could hear Betelgeuse, but he had disappeared when Jac told them to hide.

He whistled. “Down here, toots!” She looked at her boots on the gravel. “Your neck, babes!” She touched the cameo on her choker. “Bingo!”

“You’re my necklace?”

“Hey, banned from property, remember? I can’t be seen there or I get booted out. That what ya want?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Good! Now shut up and let’s go already! I’m starting to cramp!”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Ah, hello.” Jac walked to the front of the desk. “I’d like to sveak with my case-vworker?”

A green-skinned woman with mermaid-red hair wearing a flame-collared cape rolled her eyes. “Get a number.”

“Ah, vwell, it is an emergence. See, my, uh, girlfriend, she, vwell, she, vwe—”

“Fine,” the green girl moaned. “The door is there. You know where to find him.”

“Zhank yew,” Jac nodded.

Lydia looked at the receptionist; she was sporting a ribbon that read “Miss Argentina.” Was she in some kind of beauty contest when she died?

“Lydia?” Jac called.

“Oh, right, sorry.” Lydia sprinted over to him and followed Jac down the hall. Ghosts were pushing papers that were piled in heaps around their desks while skeletons worked, quite literally, to the bone. Barbara wasn’t kidding about the place being messy and cluttered. How could anyone work in this environment? It was so chaotic and disorganized. Lydia would go crazy trying to work here.

“Vwell,” Jac stopped. “Zhis is my counselor’s office.”

“You’re fucking kidding,” Betelgeuse’s voiced sounded from Lydia’s neck. “This used to be Juno’s office.”

“Are you sure?” Lydia asked.

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I wasn’t!”

“Vwell, vwe’ll have to keep looking zhen.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“How did we get here?” The place was like a labyrinth of spiraling hallways and crooked doors. How could anyone find their way?

“I zo not know. Last I remember is opening zhe door, not vwalking though it.”

The place was pitch-black and the door they unknowingly walked through was gone or invisible. All Lydia could see was herself and Jac.

“Oh no,” Betelgeuse muttered.

“What is it?”

Betelgeuse transformed back to himself, appearing next to Lydia, simultaneously returning her to her normal (well, normal for her) self. “I think we’re a”—a spotlight flashed on them— “captive audience.”

There was laughing coming from every direction, cackles echoing off unseen walls. Lydia glanced up; white and red stripes canopied overhead. Someone summersaulted in the air, scarcely missing Lydia’s head, landing in the shadows. A bike horn sounded in the distance. The laughing became increasingly louder as music began to play. Then nothing. Silence. The light went out.

“What just—?”

The spotlight came back on, illuminating, in addition to Lydia and her guides, a group of bizarre circus performers.  There were two identical twin girls in matching leotards with short black bobs. The only defining traits between them were their wounds: one had scars up her wrists, the other across her throat. Accompanying the girls were two manic looking clowns whose faces were contorted with makeup, a dwarf, and a one eyed giant who resembled a pirate on steroids.

The shorter of the clowns stepped forward. He was painted in blackface with a large snout and teeth worse than the stereotypical Londoner. On his oiled head rested an overly teased wig that looked like melting cotton candy. “So, Betelgeuse”—his voice was high pitched and coarse— “you’ve finally decided to visit! Been a while, hasn’t it guys?”

Everyone nodded; one of the twins giggled.

“So, how’s after-life in the Big Time? Makin’ lots of money? Got your own show?”

“Heh, well,” Betelgeuse stuttered. “You know how it is. Fickle business.”

“Oh, that’s right! The only show you’ve been on is Notorious Netherworld! Not like your famous boss, Juno. Oh, wait, she fired you!” The blackface clown began cackling.

Betelgeuse growled.

“So, do tell BJ! What’s stopping me from calling the police and collecting my reward for the ransom?”

“Hey, I was on the show for being dangerous, not as a wanted criminal!”

“From what I hear, there are a lot of people who’d pay big money for your head!” He slapped Betelgeuse’s arm. “And we all know what happens when you lose your head!”

“You fuckers should be thanking me! Your crummy show was nothing until I came along and took charge!”

“A then you abounded us for that Juno woman and her fancy ‘scaring job,’” he squawked.  “What was it he said again?” The question was to the clown’s group. “Oh, that’s right! That’s right! ‘See you losers! I’m off to the good life!’ blah blah blah and all that shit!”

“Eh, I said those things as, uh, a term of endearment.”

“Shove it! Thanks to you, we’ve lost one of our best performers!”

“Awe, I’m touched!” Jokingly, Betelgeuse covered his breast with both hands and batted his eyes.

“Not you! My sister! Said the place held too many memories of you and bailed! She couldn’t handle the betrayal!”

“Oh boohoo! I’m about to cry!” He whipped an invisible tear with his fist. “Not my problem.”

“Actually, it is your problem!” Betelgeuse rolled his eyes. “Don’t you remember what you said as you left?”

“Uh, that you were losers, right?”

“NO!” The clown stomped his outsized shoe. The sole was coming loose and the purple was scuffed. “You promised to find a replacement!”

“First off Bozo—”

“It’s Scuzzo!”

“Whatever. I don’t make, let alone keep, promises. Second, I was talking about finding a replacement for me, not the bitch that ditched! She was a fucking loon!”

“Fine then, your replacement!”

“Hehe,” Betelgeuse chuckled. “Tough luck. I’m irreplaceable!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that Mister B. Looks like you got two replacements right there!” Scuzzo pointed at Lydia and Jacques.

“Wait, what!” Did Lydia hear them right?

The lights went out. This time Lydia couldn’t see anything, not even her own hands!

“Ey! Get your hand off me!” Lydia heard Jacques shout somewhere nearby followed by the sound of bones scraping concrete.

“Ja—ow!” Two large hands grabbed round Lydia’s tiny waist and lifted her into the air. “Hey! Let me go!” The lug flung Lydia over his shoulder like sack of worthless toys. She kicked and punched him, but he didn’t care.

The lights came back on.  Jacques was wrapped in a net, the twins on either side of him. One was latched to his arm while the other stroked his chin through the netting. Lydia looked over at Betelgeuse who was preparing to throw a pitch.

“Whoa, I don’t think so!” Betelgeuse tossed the invisible ball of magic. A puff of green powder and glitter manifested and fell to the ground like snow. “What the fuck?”

“You’re not part of the act anymore, remember! Now you’re just part of the audience, which means no powers inside the tent! Your rule.”

“Well fuck… Eh, doesn’t matter anyway.” Betelgeuse popped his collar and sniffed. “You can keep ‘em.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t care. The girl’s draggin’ me down and the numbskull won’t stop nagging ‘bout my yard.”

“Well,” Scuzzo’s smile vanished with confusion, “okay?”

Betelgeuse started heading off into the shadows, but paused just before walking out of the spotlight, briefly turning around. “Oh, one more thing. The girl’s alive!” Betelgeuse guffawed, disappearing into the darkness.  Lydia shouted after him, but he wasn’t coming back.

Betelgeuse had abandoned them.

And it was all Lydia’s fault. This was the price of putting her trust in a mad maniac!

Stupid.

Now she would never find the Maitlands!

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“You can’t leave me locked in here!” The cage was for a bear or lion, not a person. It was inhumane. “I’m not some prisoner!”  It was silent. The performers had gone, leaving Lydia and Jacques locked in three separate cages. Three. Jacques’s skull was in a glass box with small breathing holes (not that he needed the oxygen—he had no lungs!), while his body dangled in a hanging cage. It was horrible to see. How vandalizing and vulnerable he must feel, decapitated and confined in a medieval apparatus! At least Jacques didn’t have skin for rapacious birds to pick at.

Despite his appalling condition, Lydia envied Jacques. At least he was dead. He had an eternity to escape. Lydia, though, she was alive. She didn’t want to waste her youth like a dog at the kennel, subject to the maltreatment of sadistic carnies for the sake of entertainment.  Lydia didn’t want to die in a cage, or worse, in a circus act of public humiliation. She was a photographer, a poet, not a performing puppet for psychotic phantoms!

“Ah, Lydia,” Jacques called, “zo not cry! After zheir first show, you’ll be made free. It is against zhe law to capture zhe living. Vwhen people learn yew are alive, zhere vwill be outrage!”

Lydia dried her cheek with her sleeve. “What about you?”

“Eh, zo not vworry about me. I’ve lived my life. Yew, yew are young! Yew shouldn’t be stuck here.”

“Neither should you.”

“I’ve nothing at home for me, haha!” He laughed, but Lydia couldn’t find anything humorous about this dismal situation. “My house is my own prison! It vwill still be zhere vwhen I get back.”

Lydia grabbed the steel bar, wishing it was Jacques’s hand and not the cage enclosing her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you along.”

“No, no! Zo not be sorry! Yew vwere merely looking for help. It is not your fault.”

“But it is my fault! If I hadn’t—!”

“I chose to help yew, Lydia. Yew did not make me. Besides, I vwastn’t about to leave a pretty girl zlike yew alone with Betelzeuse! Especially not one zhat’s alive! I could never live, er, after-live vwith myself if something happened to yew.”

Betelgeuse must have been more awful than Lydia realized if Jacques only accompanied her to protect an all-but-stranger. Calling Betelgeuse was a mistake. Lydia knew the risk, the gamble, she was making if her plan failed. Not it was much of a plan. Calling him was an act of desperation, and Betelgeuse knew it. Took advantage of it.

It wasn’t like her parents were any help. No matter how many times she pleaded with them, they brushed the Maitland’s disappearance aside, telling Lydia not worry, but she knew better. Something was wrong.  She just hoped whatever that was… wasn’t her.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“I still don’t think we should keep the girl.”

Lydia started from her doze.

“You heard Scuzzo: it’s about the money. Death defying tricks aren’t exactly suspenseful or amazing if we’re all dead. She adds an element of danger! Surprise! Whimsy!”

Lydia crawled closer to the bars, peering out into the dimly lit tent. It was the twins.

“Money won’t mean jack if we’re fined and jailed! We’ll be out of the showbiz for good!”

“We’ll just blame it on BJ!” The twin with scars on her arms waved her hand dismissively. “He’s the one that brought her here.”

“But Scuzzo agreed to take her.”

“Then we say we didn’t know. Simple as that!”

“But, if the reason she’s an attraction is for being alive, then wouldn’t we have to know?”

“We could always kill her?” Lydia flinched. This wasn’t how she wanted to die: at the hands of circus suicides!

“I guess that’s true, but then where’s the death-deifying whimsy? No profits. We’ll be where we are at now.”

“No we won’t. Alive or dead, we still have two more performers. And one’s a real cutie!”

The girls giggled. “He does have good bone structure. And did you see that pelvis?” Lydia glanced at the glass box. She never knew cheeks could blush without blood before.

“Mm-mm, yes! Watching him juggle his parts is going to be way more entertaining than Lezzley juggling a couple of balls!”

The slit-throat sister snickered. “No kidding!”

Looking like yellow canaries, the twins skipped over to the hanging man and began petting at Jacques’s quivering bones, little black bobs bouncing. Maybe Lydia was wrong? Maybe there was enough body left to be pecked at by birds.

“Pst! Psssssst!  Yo, toots!” Lydia jolted. “Yes, you! Get over here,” a hoarse voice whispered.

Lydia crawled to the other end of the cage, away from the fawning twins in their ugly mustard jumpsuits.  They were too busy fondling boners-of-a-different-sort to pay any mind to Lydia. “Betelgeuse?”

“No, Santa Clause. Yes, it’s me!”

“What are you doing here?”

“You don’t think I’m that heartless, do you!” He snorted, “Okay, maybe I am.”

“Why’d you come back?”

“Well, ya see, babes, well, it seems that, um…”

“What,” she snarled. Lydia had enough of this swindle!

“You know that little incantation?”

“Yeah?” She’d wished he’d spill it out already. Her tolerance was gone.

“Well, heh-heh, funny thing, see…” He rubbed the back of his neck, not looking at her. “Seems my powers weren’t exactly retuned to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ugh, that you’re like more than a door. You’re, like, uh, a key.”

“Okay?”

He groaned. “You’re a dense one, aren’t ya? Thanks that incantation, my juice is linked to you.” He grabbed the bars blocking Lydia’s face. “Don’t ya get it? My powers are fucking TIED to YOU! They won’t fucking work as long as you’re in this tent!”

“So you need me in order to use your powers?”

“Er,” he blushed. “I don’t need ‘you.’ I just need you someplace that’s not disabling magic.”

“But you do need me to access your power?”

“Can you not say it like that,” he grumbled, glaring at her through the bars.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m reliant on you! I don’t need a little goth chick—or anyone! I’m the ‘Ghost with the Most!’ Not some helpless fucking cheese!”

“‘Cheese’?” Was this another one of his stupid metaphors?

He rolled his eyes. “A new spirit.”

“They’re called ‘cheese’?”

“Don’t you know anything! ‘Chi’ is energy! New spirts lack—” Betelgeuse chomped down in frustration. “Stop asking me stupid questions!”

Lydia crossed her arms. “Maybe if you didn’t use such stupid metaphors, I wouldn’t ask stupid questions!”

“I knew saving you was a waste of time! I’m better off without being attached to some gloomy little girl!”

“Hey!” Lydia uncrossed her arms and grabbed the bars above Betelgeuse’s hands. “I only became your stupid door because you promised to help me find the Maitlands if I did! So you had better get me out of this mess, or you’ll never use your powers again!”

Lydia saw his face go red as he ground his teeth. “Fine. But I ain’t doing it for you. I’m doing it for my juice, and to get that Barbara bitch back!”

“You can worry about revenge later! Now help me and Jac!”

“Whoa, I never agreed to help that bone-head!”

“If you don’t help him, then I guess I’ll stay here. No powers for you.”

“Fuck. You’re annoying. Fine.”

“Hurry up!” If Lydia wasn’t stuck in this cage, that idiot would have been slapped so hard across the face, his ugly head would have popped off!

After scowling at Lydia a few seconds longer, he released the bars and made his way around the cage, out of view, looking for the keys to free her and his neighbor.

“Oh!” One of the canary sisters squawked. “Look, sis! We have a visitor!”

Lydia could hear Betelgeuse curse something vile.

The other canary giggled, poking Jacques’s leg which swung in place like a broken twig barely clinging to its host. “Guess he wanted a sneak peak of the show!”

“Is that it, sweetie? Did you miss us? Want back in on the action?”

He snorted. “As if!”

“Oh, too bad…” she said, shaking her head, tisking. “Well, you heard him, sis!”

Still poking Jacques’s leg, the twin screeched “CODE RUM-RED! CODE RUM-RED! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”

“It’s ‘Red-Rum,’ you idiot!” the sister squawked back.

“W-What’s ‘Code Red-Rum’?” Lydia hoped it wasn’t code for “spill the live one’s blood”! If she was going to be murdered, it’d be at her own hands, not the stunts of crazed circus freaks!

CLANK!

Something fell near Betelgeuse!

“Are you okay!” Lydia didn’t care about Betelgeuse’s well-being (he could re-die for all she cared), but if something happened to him, she was a dead woman!

“Fuck!” That wasn’t a good sign.

“Betelgeuse?”

“Will you SHUT-UP!” He rounded her cage, the demented dwarf and a miniature clown car supporting a bulky cannon on its roof were close behind him.

“LOOKOUT!”

“Oomph!” Betelgeuse collided into the giant’s massive stomach, too busy yelling at Lydia to watch where he was going, and was seized by the giant’s bulbous arms. Torn skin barley stretched around the giant’s swelling mussels, showing almost more tendon than flesh. “LET ME GO, YA BIG LUG!”

The rest of the circus crew circled around Betelgeuse. The miniature car’s door burst open and the two clowns popped out like large beach balls being shot out of a sippy straw. Lydia couldn’t fathom how they managed to squish themselves into that tiny vehicle! The black-faced clown stepped into the middle of the circle near Betelgeuse.

“So, thought you’d sneak in, huh? You must miss showbiz more than you let on!”

Betelgeuse laughed. “You call this pathetic ring of dried-up talentless blowhards ‘showbiz’? What a joke!”

“That’s the idea, Beetle-breath! The circus is a place for laughter and fun! Jokes are part of the show!”

“Well I got news for ya, Scuzzo: the crowds laughing ‘at’ you, not ‘with’ you!”

“You’d know,” Scuzzo chortled. “People laugh at you all the time!”

“Listen here, dirt-bag, let me go, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Flutter your eyelashes at me!” He gripped his stomach in laughter. “You’re defenseless, Betelgeuse!”

Betelgeuse growled.

“Say, why DID you come back, Beetle-butt?”

“To get a good laugh at your sorry ass excuse of a show!”

Scuzzo snapped his fingers. “Hey, I bet I know! You came back for your little concubine!” Betelgeuse said nothing. “Ha! I knew it! Tell ya what, Beetle-snot, I’ll give you a ‘private’ showing for, sayyyy, three-hundred dollars? Ya can’t get warm bodies like this at your local brothel!”

Looking up, Betelgeuse pursed his lips in thought.

Lydia shouted “You’re not actually considering it, are you!”

“Whaaat!” Betelgeuse yelled back. “You can’t blame me!”

“You’re sick!”

“So?”

Scuzzo pushed Betelgeuse’s knee to get his attention. “So, what’ll it be? The private showing—or jail?”

“Eeeeh… NEITHER!” Betelgeuse swung his leg forward, smashing his boot into Scuzzo’s painted large nose, sending Scuzzo crashing to the concrete floor, back first. While everyone was in shock, Betelgeuse kicked the same leg back, nailing the giant in the nuts. Wailing, the giant released Betelgeuse and hurtled to ground in pain, hands shoved between his meaty thighs.

Now free, Betelgeuse ran to Scuzzo’s unconscious corpse and snatched the keys from his chalky hands. “Yo, babes!” He tossed the keys to Lydia who barely caught them and darted off.

The gang stood around stupefied, not sure what to do. Should they help their leader? Chase Betelgeuse? Stop Lydia from escaping?

“HEY! CIRCUS FREEKS!” They all turned to Betelgeuse. Waking from his coma, Scuzzo grabbed his head and looked over. “WANT A SMOKE!”

“What are you fools doing!” Scuzzo screamed, “Those are the fireworks! Get him before he blows the place up!”

“Hehe,” Betelgeuse smirked, tossing the lit cigarette into the box of explosives. “Hope ya have BLAST! I’m outa here!” With a sarcastic salute, he ran over to Lydia. “Give me the keys, babes, and I’ll let ya out.” She did. “Come on, toots! This place is about to blow!” He snorted. “Not that it didn’t blow already.”

“I can’t leave yet!” She said, hopping out of the unlocked cage.

“What? Why not!”

“We can’t just leave Jac! He needs our help!”

Betelgeuse looked honestly confused. “Why?”

“He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me—us! If we can’t save him, then I’m staying here”— a firework went off like rocket, sending sparks their way— “and your powers will be gone for good!”

“Ugh, fine! I’ll help the bone-bag! But we gotta go, NOW!”

“Fine.”

Lydia ran over, grabbing the glass box containing Jacques’s head while Betelgeuse unlocked the hanging cage.  Jacques’s bones toppled to the cement in a big ivory heap. “Ah, fuck.”

“Don’t just stand there! Pick up the pieces!”

“Yeah, yeah! I know!” Betelgeuse shrugged off his jacket. “Hop on, Leblanc! I ain’t got time for this shit!” The skeleton parts clambered onto the jacket that Betelgeuse then used as a sack to carry them in. “Well what are ya waiting for, toots! MOVE!”

Nodding, Lydia hurried to the tent’s parting, Betelgeuse right behind her. The night air felt like a splash of cold water on Lydia’s face.

KA-BANG!

A gust of hot wind crashed into Lydia’s back, propelling her forward, the glass box flying out of her hands and crashing to the ground, shattering the box and Jacques’s skull as Betelgeuse’s body collided with Lydia, knocking her into the grass beside the shards of sharp glass and bone.

Lydia shrieked. “You’re crushing me!”

“Heh, sorry, babes.” He pushed himself off her.

“Ow!” Lydia rolled over. “That hurt.”

“Not as much as THAT woulda hurt.”  Betelgeuse pointed at the circus tent, now up in flames, fireworks still spurting from the collapsed canopy into blooms of lethal flowers filling the darkening amber sky with flecks of makeshift starts.

“Oh my god…”

“Now,” Betelgeuse stood back up, dusting off his trousers, “wha’d’ya say we put oh Bonezie back together?” With a snap of his fingers, the skull shards and bones flew back together without even a scratch, and Betelgeuse’s jacket materialized back onto his body.

“Ah, I am whole again!”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Betelgeuse snorted.

“Vwhat! I did not zhank yew! It is zhe girl who has my zhanks!” Jacques’s turned from his neighbor and held a hand out for Lydia. As she took it, Jacques hoisted her up. He was extremely strong for someone with no body mass.

“If it’s not too much to ask…” Both tired and rattled from the explosion, Lydia released Jacques’s hand and grabbed her arm in a semi-embrace. “Can I go home now?”


	6. Scared Sheetless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seems Lydia and BJ have reached a... Dead End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been wanting to share this chapter for MONTHS! Here it finally is! Hope you enjoy :)

Flooded  
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)  
Chapter 6: Scared Sheetless

 

Lydia was floating, but she didn’t feel weightless. She had never felt so heavy. The air was thick and constricting. Every breath she took felt like liquid filling and solidifying in her lungs. Each inhale was strained and painful. Lydia was drowning in nothing.

Around her, specters drifted by, decomposing, white, transparent. The atmosphere was slowly shredding the spirits apart, leaving the ghosts as nothing more but weighed-down fraying sheets, moaning in pain. If Lydia couldn’t escape, she would die here, and Dead End was no place to die. Not unless you wanted to be dead beyond death… The ghosts exiled to Dead End were destined to wither away into nothingness; their bodiless energy, once their spirits were demolished, merely added to the ever-thickening and unbreathable air. This is where the “nonrehabilitatable” went to be “de-existed.”

Lydia glanced beside her. Betelgeuse was slowly sinking away from her, his bleached skin flaking off his face as if it was thin tissue. His eyes, that were normally a vibrant yellow, looked like melting butter. Was he even conscious of Lydia or their situation? Could he see her?

Something gleaming in the distance, above Betelgeuse’s ragged carcass, caught Lydia’s eye. It was a light… shining through a window… of a door!

With difficulty, Lydia lifted her arms, and pushed herself off a nearby spirit, changing her trajectory in the direction of the door. As she drifted forward, she reached down and grasped the lapel of Betelgeuse’s blazer with one hand, and with her other hand, Lydia pushed and pulled through the murk as if swimming, struggling to stay afloat amongst the grasping hands of crumbling ghosts tearing at her dress in failed attempts to hitch a ride with her. Every inch she neared the door, the unseen chains yanking her down got heavier and heavier.

Lydia stretched for the door, barely gripping the handle, and pulled herself and Betelgeuse closer until she was abreast with the wooden plank—their exit. Briefly, she released Betelgeuse and undid the thin black belt on her tattered dress, still holding the door handle with one hand, and rapped the belt around Betelgeuse’s wrist and her ankle to keep him from drifting away.

With her other hand now free, she began banging on the door, desperate for someone to hear the knocking and come to their rescue. Just as Lydia’s arm was beginning to give out, strained from the stress of the invisible weights constricting her muscles, she saw a figure of someone walking by. At the sight, a jolt of energy surged through her, and Lydia hit the door harder and more vigorously. The door opened, sending her and Betelgeuse toppling forward to the chilled tiled floor.

Lydia inhaled a sweet refreshing gulp of musty office air. Who could have thought gravity could feel so light!

“Lydia! I thought that was you!”

Lydia looked up. “Prince Vince!” Oh thank the heavens! “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” He shook his head and repressed a giggle. He used to be timid and shy, but over the few years Lydia knew him, the Prince of the Netherworld had grown quite the spectral specter of a spine.

Even with all his newfound confidence, Vince could still be overly sensitive. But he was sweet. And cute. Like Lydia, his hair was dark and his skin was pale, and they shared a love for Gothic styles and the melodramatic. They would have made an attractive couple—and had been, briefly—but Lydia couldn’t bring herself to see him as anything more than a friend. She tried.

“Sweet Lydia, how-ever did you end up there! Dead End is no place for the Living. Actually,” he waved at a dark-haired girl wearing round spectacles. She was holding a notebook. Nodding, the girl jotting something down, “the living shouldn’t even be able to get into Dead End. You aren’t… dead, are you Lydia?”

Lydia shook her head, “No, but Betelgeuse…” Lydia pushed herself up—her arms were tired, but it was a relief to move them so freely again—shoving a deader-than-dead Betelgeuse off her legs and began untying the belt binding them together. “He…”

“What did Betelgeuse do?”

“Well, he didn’t do anything, exactly…”

“Oh?”

“Betelgeuse was… exorcised…” Vince’s eyes widened with shock and intrigue. “I tried to save him! But it was too late. I got dragged along instead.”

“But… you’re alive. You shouldn’t have been sent there… Are you getting this, Germaine?” Scribbling away, the girl in the glasses nodded.

“I think it was because I chanted his name.”

“Perhaps… But I’ll still have it recorded. We can’t be too careful. You’re lucky you materialized near the door, and that I was here to see you. You would have died!”

“Will Beej be okay?” Lydia looked down at his miserable husk. Betelgeuse was barely conscious.

“He should be. He just needs time to recover.”

“Ah!” Lydia startled. Betelgeuse had latched onto her leg! She didn’t think he could move yet!

“Come on.” Vince knelt down, helping Betelgeuse up after prying his rigid hands off Lydia. Betelgeuse hung limp as Vince shifted the striped deadweight to his back. “We should find you some knew clothes.”

Lydia looked down and blushed. “Oh…” Her dress was a disaster, and a bit more revealing than before. “So, um, what are you doing here?” She glanced at the notebook girl. She had light purple, almost periwinkle, skin and was wearing her hair in pigtail braids. Her dress was long and black, hanging loosely on her body under an oversized dark-gray cardigan. Around her neck was a crescent moon necklace. Lydia wondered if Vince and her were a “thing.” “Don’t you have more, uh, princely duties to attend to?”

Vince sighed and began dragging Betelgeuse down the hallway. “The wellbeing of the Netherworld and my people are my duty.”

“What’s going on?” Lydia asked while following him. The Netherworld headquarters was muddled with spectral workers running rapid, ransacking their coffin cubicles. When they spoke, it was brisk: as soon as a memo was received, the messenger would dart away to complete another task. The headquarters was never the most organized or clean of workplaces, but Lydia couldn’t recall it ever being quite this bustling. Usually the employees seemed irritated and fatigued. Bored. This was different. They were anxious.

“The Netherworld has been in haywire, sweet Lydia. There are floods, droughts, blizzards, earthquakes—all with no cause! To make matters worse, my subjects have been disappearing at higher and higher rates with no trace either here or in the Otherworld!”

Lydia gasped. Barbara! Could this at all be related—?

“The entire Netherworld is in a panic. I’m here to make sure everything is running smoothly as my people search for answers… and to protect the place from any onset of bad weather that could destroy this building.” Vince could govern the climate in his proximity. Before he could control his unique ghost powers, it would begin to rain whenever he had a depressive episode, but since befriending Lydia, the prince was able to learn that he was capable of so much more than producing a heap of crying clouds.

“Is this all related to the sandworms?”

“We think it might be. Mishaps like this have been happening for decades, but it’s become frighteningly more frequent in the recent months.  I’m concerned for my people, Lydia. If this keeps up, the Netherworld could be in shambles. I’ve only read about such chaos in the books of my forefathers.”

“Well, what did they do?”

“I’m not sure. Oh!” Vince put the back of his hand to his forehead, nearly dropping Betelgeuse. “If only I could reach them! I know not what to do!”

“Maybe it’ll die-down, erm, in a matter of speaking.”

“Oh, Lydia, I hope you are right. I fear what will become of us if these mishaps do not lighten up! Oh, the affects it could have on the Otherworld! I shudder to think!”

“Affects… on the… Otherworld?”

“Of course, Lydia. Our worlds are connected.” Vince opened a door to an empty office, waiting for Lydia to pass him before following her in and waving off the notebook girl. “Imagine if this world is to undergo destruction! I will have to excavate my subjects to your world, and who knows what the consequences of that will be. My people weren’t meant to inhabit the Otherworld indefinitely. That’s what reincarnation is for! The land of the living is too small. Your people… they will be overrun! Oh, there is no solution! Sending my people there will only subject me to more subjects with no haven for which to send them…”

“I-I’m sure it’s not all that bad, Vince.” He did have a way of exaggerating.

He sat Betelgeuse in a cheap office chair with gray fabric stretched over the thin seat and back cushions before taking a deep breath, brushing his hair back with his thin fingers. “Yes, of course. Things are still manageable. We’ve not yet reached quite a crisis.”

“See, Vincent,” Lydia smiled. “Everything will be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced, but took comfort in Lydia’s words. “I’ll find you something to wear and be right back.”

“Okay,” Lydia nodded, taking a seat next to Betelgeuse as Vince left. “That must be why we could never find the Maitlands…”  She put her head in her hands. “I wonder when this all started…”

She jolted at Betelgeuse’s feeling up her thigh and brushed him off. He was still pretty out of it, so all he saw was that Lydia was female; he didn’t recognize her as his friend. The more time went by, the chattier and more handsy he got. Most of what Betelgeuse babbled about was lurid nonsense.

There was a knock at the door and Vince stepped in. “I found a dress,” he said, holding up a slinky hip-hugger with rushing. “I’m sorry it took so long. While out looking, I was making sure everyone was still focused.”

“I’m just glad you’re back!” Lydia hopped up. “How long before BJ’s back to normal?”

“I don’t know. It’s not very often we let exercised ghosts back through.”

Betelgeuse smacked Lydia’s rear. She growled “Quit it!” slapping his hand away.

“Heh, what’s wrong babe? I’m just admirin’!”

She groaned, taking the dress from Vince. “I’m beginning to understand why so many women hate him.” Lydia looked at the dress and held it out. “Uh, Vince, are you sure this is a dress and not a skirt?”

Blushing, Vince rubbed the back of his head. “An employee here was planning on wearing it for a date after her shift…”

Lydia grimaced “At least it’s black.”

Arms plopped on Lydia’s shoulders and loosely wrapped around her. “I think you’ll look great in it, babes!” Betelgeuse slurred in her ear before squeezing her breast. “Besides, you like it tight!”

She twisted away from him, elbowing Betelgeuse in the chest. He hobbled forward like a drunkard and almost fell. Vince grabbed him by the arms.

“I never want to see Beej stoned… His sober is already hard to handle.”

Vince chuckled. “Agreed. We’ll leave so that you may change in private.”

“Heh, private,” Betelgeuse snickered.

They both rolled their eyes at Betelgeuse’s naïveté as Vince pushed Betelgeuse out of the room.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“I feel like a prostitute…” The dress was formal and formfitting, but Lydia felt too exposed. Her jumpsuit felt less skimpy than this… Maybe if she had a poncho?

“Betelgeuse, no!” She heard Vince yell milliseconds before the Ghost with the Most poked his head through the wall.

“Lookin’ hot, babes!”

“Vince!” Lydia called. “You can come in now; I’m dressed!” He did, and Betelgeuse slid the rest of the way through the wall.

“You do look nice, Lydia.”

“Uh, thanks…” She blushed. A lurid “compliment” from Betelgeuse was to be expected, but a compliment from the prince was both nice and flustering. Lydia wasn’t sure if it made her feel more exposed or more sensible. “Vince, you mentioned people going missing?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

She crossed her arms, still embarrassed. “Have you tried searching the sandworms?” Barbara had set one on Betelgeuse before, and now they were rampantly infesting the Nether—and Other—worlds. Perhaps they were ingesting more ghosts as a result?

Vince nodded. “We’ve investigating, but so far, none of the worms we’ve captured seem to have consumed any missing people. Those found were already accounted for.”

“Meaning they were sent to Saturn?”

“Yes.”

“When did this all start? I mean, not when it became this frequent, but when it started becoming more than mishaps?”

Vince thought. “Hmm… Looking back, I would say, perhaps, eight or so years ago? Yes, that sounds about right. About eight years ago, these strange occurrences began steadily inclining. But it’s nothing compared to the spike in recent months.”

“Strange how, exactly?”

He tapped his chin. “Huh, well, sandworms escaping from Saturn became a regular occurrence, tempests became larger and more violent, and there were more unsolved disappearances. Nothing quite so drastic or irregular so as to cause much alarm.”

Lydia’s fingers began constricting her arms. “E-Eight years ago…” Could it be?

Betelgeuse tickled her stomach. “Damn, you’re a hottie, babe!” He snorted. Lydia pushed his hands away, but he continued touching her, still delirious.  “No wonder I fell for you! Say, when ya wanna fuck?”

Lydia flinched back. “What!”

Vince grabbed Betelgeuse from behind and pulled him away. “Um, I’m going to find him a place to recover.”

“Yeah… sounds good.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“It’ll be a little while before he’s lucid again. Well, for him,” said Vince when he got back. “He’s still pretty out of it.”

“He’s not alone, is he?” A sane Betelgeuse by himself was bad, but an unsupervised and blitzed Betelgeuse was worse.

“I left Juno and one of my guards with him. He shan’t be disturbing anyone.”

“Good.” Lydia had no idea how wacky a little exorcism could make a ghost. But then, he was always pretty wacky… “You think he knew what he was saying?”

Vince shrugged. “Most ghosts just babble once they start coming around. Being exorcised is a bit like being sedated. How conscious their babblings are, though, I cannot say.”

Lydia crossed her arms. “Gotcha.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Will you shut-up!” Juno yelled, rubbing her temple. “What do I look like: a pimp!”

“The rambling’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waved Prince Vince’s guard off, wondering why the prince didn’t leave the idiot exorcised. Why, of all the caseworkers, did she have to be the one who mentored Betelgeuse! Had Juno only known the trouble he’d be, she would have never offered him a job as her apprentice! Now she was stuck watching over this loser because of their “history.” If it was up to her, she’d have Betelgeuse thrown right back into Dead End! How he didn’t get exorcised sooner was beyond Juno. The only thing more baffling was how that sweet Deetz girl could tolerate his shit.

“What time is it?”

Juno exasperated, “That’s the first normal thing you’ve said all day! How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three,” Betelgeuse answered.

“Good.” She put two fingers down, leaving only the middle digit up. “Now how many?”

Betelgeuse muttered through his teeth, “One.”

“You’re fine. Hey,” she snapped her fingers, “watch dog! You can take the moron back to your owner now.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“So, how long have you been here? Looking after the place, I mean.”

Vince answered, “Not long. Two days or so… It’s easy to lose track of time, especially here. Time isn’t as consistent as it is in the Otherworld.”

“You can say that again.” If it wasn’t for Betelgeuse, Lydia would never make it home on time. Even after all these years, she couldn’t quite figure out the Netherworld’s weird time fluctuations.

One of Vince’s guards rounded the corner, followed by Betelgeuse. Lydia leaped up, shouting “BJ!”

“Ow…” Cringing, Betelgeuse put a hand to his hear. “Not so loud, Lyds. Head hurts.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had hangovers that were better… and I’m starvin’… Other than that, I’m fine. Heh,” he chuckled at his own pain, “wha’d’ya say we head back to my place for some grub? Got a bag of dried beetles callin’ my name!”

“You’re back to normal!” Lydia rammed into his chest as she went to hug him.

Awkwardly, he pat her on the back. “Uh, what happened, babe?”

“You were exorcised!” She broke the hug. “And I was dragged along. It was so awful. I thought—I didn’t think we were going to make it.”

“Yeah, I remember that part…” He rubbed his head. “Whoa, babe, what are ya wearing?”

Lydia tugged at the bottom of the dress in a sad attempt to make it longer. “My clothes kinda got torn apart by the other exorcised spirits.” She continued fidgeting, suddenly self-conscious again. “But, uh, how much do you remember?”

Betelgeuse shrugged, still massaging his sore head. “Random shit. It’s all pretty fuzzy. How bad was I?”

“Bad.” She glanced at Vince.” Spoke a lot of gibberish and you couldn’t keep your balance, mostly.” She left out the part about him being a horny pervert relentlessly hitting on her. Lydia knew Betelgeuse found her attractive to some degree, but whenever he hit on her unwittingly from one of her dupes, Betelgeuse would become frazzled with shame, even disturbed. Knowing the whole truth would only make the situation more awkward. “We should probably go to your place so you can rest some more—and eat.” Lydia’s tummy rumbled. She placed a hand on her tummy to hush it. “Come to think of it, I’m pretty starved too.” The talk of food—even of gross dried bugs—awoke Lydia’s knotted stomach to just how famished it was.  “Besides, I miss my parents.”

They said their goodbyes to Vince, Lydia offering to help in any way they could, and took their leave. If there was one good thing being exorcised gave Lydia, it was an excuse to have a prolonged visit with her parents!

But Lydia knew she had to go back sometime. Not only was she alive, but she promised the Maitlands she’d take care of their house for generations! She couldn’t abandon it. But for now, she didn’t want to think about the Otherworld. She wanted to see her dad, Delia—and dinner.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“L-Lydia! W-What are you doing w-with him!”—Charles pointed at the groggy Betelgeuse and then back at his daughter— “in that!”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Lydia shut the door behind them. “The stupid town your sister lives in had BJ exorcised and accidently exorcised me too.”

“C-Can they even do that?” The priest had to first get permission from the Vatican, and a bunch of other stuff, before performing an exorcism (which could take months), and Lydia was alive. It shouldn’t have worked.

Lydia nodded. “The trip kind of… ruined my dress. This was the best I could manage in short notice.”

Delia popped Charles on the arm with the back of her hand. “I told you sending Lydia to that shallow sister of yours was a bad idea! She has absolutely no creative spirit or respect for the arts!”

“Delia, can you really blame Chloe? I mean, look at him!”

“Hey!” Betelgeuse shook his fist. “Watch it Chucky!”

Lydia put her hand on Betelgeuse to stop him from overreacting. This fight wasn’t about him. It was about her awful aunt, Chloe.

“She was only trying to protect Lydia. I would have done the same thing.”

“Oh,” Delia moaned in defeat, a big pout on her face. “I guess you’re right… But I still don’t like her!”

“When are you going back, Lydia?”

“What!” Betelgeuse shouted. “Are you out of your fucking minds! That psycho bitch just exercised us, and you want to send Lyds back! What do you think they’re gonna do when she gets there!”

“Oh, we’ll figure something out,” Delia cheered dismissively. “We’re a creative family!” She muttered, adding “Unlike that dreadful sister of yours.”

“My sister isn’t that bad, Delia.”

“Yes she is,” all three parties groaned in unison.

“Okay,” Charles shrugged. “Maybe she is a little difficult.”

“Lydia, why don’t you stay with us for a while, until things cool down up-top,” Delia pointed at the ceiling and winked. “Oh, maybe I can make a pair of spectacular angel wings for your return! The wont cast out an angel! —will they Charles?”

“Well, Satan was an angel, Delia.”

“Oh, poo, you’re right.” Now it was Delia’s turn to shrug. “Well, we’ll figure out something.”

“So, if I’m staying, I guess I’ll need my things.”

“Why?” asked Betelgeuse.

“Well, for one, I’d like to change out of this dress.”

Betelgeuse stretched his arms out in front of him, cracking is knuckles and neck, and then snapped his fingers, changing the tube dress into Lydia’s poncho ensemble, simultaneously adding an upstairs.

“I’d still like my stuff…” She’d been without it for far too long.

Delia yelped, “Oh my! How did you do that! Oh, to think, the ability to make things just appear whenever you want! Oh, the art you could make! Charles, Lydia, can you imagine!”

“Ghost with the Most, babe,” he said with a snort, smugly wiping his nose with the back of his fist.

“You mean you could have helped Delia with the renovations this whole time!”

Betelgeuse shrugged. “Looked like the broad was enjoying herself. Why interfere?”

“You—!” Delia grabbed Charles’s arm.

“It’s his house, Charles. No need to get so worked up.”

“But Delia, he—!”

“Gave us a place to live. How many times must we go over this?”

Charles sighed. “Sorry dear…”

Delia petted his arm. “Good, Charles! See how much smoother things work out when you keep a cool head?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. Delia was the last person, dead or alive, to know what “keeping a cool head” meant. Her fiery hair was proof of that. “Beej, my stuff is in storage at Winter River. Can you get it without accidently popping over at my aunt’s?”

“No problem, babes!”  He held out his arm as if to do a do-si-do. Lydia quickly stepped away, chanting his name.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Betelgeuse landed in the storage warehouse filled with the Deetz’s things, spotting a few boxes with Lydia’s name. He contacted Lydia. “Hey, babes, I got your damn junk. You can warp me back now.”

“BJ, seriously, my parents!”

“Will you just call me already!” She did. He appeared in front of the family with three boxes. “Here.” He dropped them in front of Lydia.

“Careful!” Lydia fell to her knees and inspected the boxes for any damage. “The crystal ball might be in there.”

“Why the hell is it in there!”

“Chloe wasn’t exactly keen on me bringing a crystal ball to her house. Besides, what do you care? You locked your end.”

“You closed the door!”

“So? You didn’t have to lock it!”

“Shouldn’t’a cast me off!”

“You shouldn’t have spied on my date!”

Charles interrupted. “Lydia, what are you two talking about? What does your crystal ball have to do with keys and doors and your date?”

Delia gasped, clasping her hands together. “It’s a portal to talk to ghosts! Like in the movies, Charles!”

“N-Not quite,” Lydia hesitated. She had momentarily forgotten that her parents were listening. “I, um, it allows me to travel to the Netherworld without summoning BJ.” She had to say the incantation still, but instead of Betelgeuse appearing, it would project the door to the Netherworld that Lydia represented—provided Betelgeuse left his end “unlocked” for her to cross. Which he didn’t.

“How long have you been doing this!” Her dad yelled.

“Uh…”

Charles almost fainted, but was steadied by Delia before he lost his footing.

“How about we don’t discuss your secret rendezvous with the ghost that once tried to kill us in front of your father, hm?”

“But Delia, he, she, Lydia’s my daughter! I have a right to know what she was doing, traveling to the Netherworld with that, that, that maniac!”

“Well—” Lydia started to answer, but was interjected by Betelgeuse.

“We had adventures. Went exploring. Saved your ass a couple times!”

“Adventures! E-Exploring!”

“Yeah,” Betelgeuse snickered. “Saw quite some sights, if ya know what I mean.”

“Dad, nothing like you’re thinking happened! We’re just friends. I started coming here looking for Mom and Barbara.”

“Started!”

“Charles, please, do you honestly want to know the details? Give your nerves a rest.”

Charles gently shoved Delia away and went to his chair to stoop, grumbling to himself the whole way.

“I’m going to make him some tea. Why don’t you unpack?” Delia hurried to the kitchen.

“I’m guessing my room is on the new floor?”

“Bingo, babes.”

Lydia picked up the top box. “Beej, a little help?”

“What? You made me carry it all here!”

“Beej!”

“Alright, alright!” He grabbed the bottom two boxes and led the way upstairs.

“Deadly Voo! I love what you’ve done with the room!”

“What can I say?” He set the boxes down and zapped them open. The contents inside floated out and put themselves away. “I have great taste!”

Lydia giggled. “Well, Mister Great-taste, I’ll never understand why you don’t use your powers to clean your house.”

He shrugged. “Clean now.”

“Courtesy of my mom.”

“What’s your point?”

Lydia rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“Now what!”

“Nothing,” she laughed. He could be such a lazy sloth—literally.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Betelgeuse jolted up from his doze and zapped himself into Lydia’s room. “Hey, Lyds!” He shook her by the shoulders. “Babes, wake up!”

Moaning, Lydia pushed him away and sat up. “What’s up?”

“What did I say to you today?”

“What?” Lydia rubbed her eyes with her knuckles.

“When I was blabbering gibberish, what did I say?”

Lydia giggled and lay down, shutting her heavy eyes. “Go back to bed.”

“So I… didn’t say anything?”

“You said a lot.”

“Like what? Babes, I gotta know!”

“It’s like you said, you spoke gibberish. A lot of,” she yawned, “gibberish.”

“Just gibberish?”

“Why?” She peeked out from under her lashes. “Afraid you said something embarrassing?” she teased.

“N-No! Why would I be afraid of that!”

Lydia became serious, and opened her eyes the rest of the way, slightly propping herself on her forearm. “You sound nervous. What do you think you said?”

He gulped. “Nothing!”

“Beej?”

“You should go back to sleep!” He vanished from her room.

Exhaling, Lydia lowered herself and shut her eyes again, relieved that he didn’t confess what she thought he recalled saying…

 


	7. Intrusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While trying to get his juicer to work, BJ remembers when "Miss Shannon's School for Girls" got a hot new student: him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience and support! You guys are the best! (ღˇ◡ˇ)~♥ 
> 
> I was very displeased with the original draft of this chapter that I'd written back in October (Geeze, I can't believe it's been THAT long!), and, despite the all the rough drafts and outlines, I honestly wasn't sure if I was going to continue with the story. Well, the other night, I rewrote the entire chapter! Here it is! I hope you all enjoy it ♥

Flooded  
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)  
Chapter 7: Intrusion

 

“Fuck me.” Betelgeuse’s crashed on the lawn chair that he kept in the shed-turned-workshop-tuned-bachelor-pad. “What am I going to do?” Back when he was wasted from the exorcism, his dumb ass might have unwittingly proclaimed how he felt. If Lydia wasn’t already aware of his feelings, then his panicked little visit would be sure to tip her off. How was he going to face her?

He looked over at his car. Doom was fast asleep. “Good.” With doom’s motor off, Betelgeuse was free to get his running.

When did this happen? When did he let himself become a sap? He remembered when he used to hate Lydia, wanted to ring her thin, pale, (and now sexy) neck. Sure, Betelgeuse had a little thing for the goth back when he was hiding out in that toy cemetery—he had even gone so far as to think that her strangeness complimented his “unique charm”—but at the end of the day, she was just a worthless kid he was planning to espouse in order to get out of some shit, shit he had since stopped caring about.

Yet, for a “worthless kid,” her refusal to go through with the vows stung—bad—and getting doused in the stomach acid of a sandworm only worsened the wound her slight had caused. Betelgeuse had been snubbed by (what he had thought at the time were) better woman. Lydia’s rejection shouldn’t have hurt like it did.

After that, Betelgeuse had the damnedest time forcing the little brat from his mind; as soon as he managed to kick her out, Betelgeuse was snatched from a poker game and in her room. When he saw her, he didn’t know what he wanted to do more: kill her, ignore her, or have his way with her?

Instead of acting on his rage, Betelgeuse submitted to his curiosity and played along with the little brat, finding a new way to use her: as his ticket to the Otherworld. His personal loophole for getting himself out of trouble. He had never planned to let the goth craw back in his head—and he defiantly didn’t plan for her to infest his heart!

Betelgeuse recalled when they’d first started to become friends. They’d just escaped the crazed clutches of Betelgeuse’s old circus crew. At first, Betelgeuse was wondering if Lydia would ever summon him after that. Then he began wondering when she’d call him. The wondering turned into waiting. The waiting turned into wanting. Before he knew it, Betelgeuse, impatient of waiting on the goth babe, was taking matters into his own hands.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Like an anti-conscience devil, Betelgeuse perched his rump on Lydia’s shoulder and flicked ashes from his cigarette onto her coat. With a cough, Lydia startled. “What are you doing here!”

“Didn’t’cha say you needed me for somethin’? Finding the Mainlands or some shit?” He puffed smoke into her face, making her cough again.

“Put that out before I get in trouble.”

He rolled his eyes and tossed the tiny cigarette onto the bench Lydia was sitting on.

“Well? Ya need my help or what? ‘Cause I’m getting sick of sitting on my ass. You came to me, remember toots.”

“I have school.” She shut her textbook with a loud snap. “I can’t just bail, or I could fail.”

“How poetic,” he scoffed. “Let’s get your little scavenger hunt over with already, before I call the deal off.”

“And lose your door?”

“Well you can’t just sit with your snout in book all day!”

Lydia picked the miniature ghost up by the lapel of his jacket and held him out in front of her.  “Why are you suddenly so keen on helping me? I thought you hated the Maitlands?”

“Yeah, well…” He crossed his arms and scowled.

“Spit it out.”

 “I’m bored, alright! Last time was kinda… eh, fun, alright!”

 “I almost died!”

 “Oh boo-hoo. The suicidal goth kid almost kicked-the-bucket.” He transformed into a violin, simultaneously releasing himself from Lydia’s grasp. “Why don’t I play you a sad song.”

 “Oh, fuck off.” As she would an annoying fly, Lydia wacked Betelgeuse with the back of her hand, sending him spinning to the tiled floor where he proceeded to skid underneath the staircase.

Betelgeuse was about to snap when a pack of teenage babes came skipping down the stairs. Suddenly forgetting the throbbing pain in his side, Betelgeuse sat up, turning back into himself, and began salivating. Maybe this whole “school” thing wasn’t such a bad idea?

 

 [¬º-°]¬

 

Once the group of giggling girls had descended and disappeared down the hall, Betelgeuse vanished and resurfaced on top of Lydia’s book. “So, you say you’ve got school, huh?”

The expression on Lydia’s face told Betelgeuse that the goth wasn’t exactly keen on where he was taking this conversation.

“What’s with the look, babes? You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!”

Lydia shoved her book into the satchel on her lap in preparation to leave, forcing Betelgeuse to hover. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I know it can’t be good.”

“Oh come on! I ain’t got nothin’ better to do!” 

“That’s your problem.”

He shrugged. “Fine, then I’ll find another way to entertain myself.” From his pocket, Betelgeuse pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a match, then proceeded to light the new cigarette. “So, uh, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I just pulled that little lever over there, would ya?”

Lydia glanced behind her at the fire alarm. Betelgeuse appeared in wisp of smoke atop the alarm. “Wait!”

“So, what’ll it be? Summon me, or get expelled?”

“Fine, I’ll do it! But you have to behave.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, putting the new cigarette in his mouth. “Now say my damn name already!”

Reluctantly, Lydia chanted his name, allowing Betelgeuse to take on his full form and the full capacity of his powers.  

“It’s showtime!” he cheered, licking his lips in preparation of a delicious chick chase.

“Stop!” Lydia stood up from the bench and yanked the scoundrel back. “This is an all-girls school with an all-female staff. You can’t just run around like that or you’ll get found out!”

“Shit, you’re right.” Betelgeuse thought, snapping his fingers as a brilliant idea came to him. “I got it!” With a puff of smoke, Betelgeuse transformed himself into a blond bimbo wearing a uniform that matched Lydia’s. “Now I blend right in!”

“Oh dear hell…”

“So what do you think of your new girlfriend: Betty!”

Lydia blushed as Betelgeuse rapped an arm around her. “I think,” she yanked the cigarette from Betelgeuse’s newly glossed lips in disgust, “that I’m trouble.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Wait up, bestie!” Betelgeuse sprinted to catch up with Lydia who was riding her bike home.

Lydia skid to a stop. “Aren’t you going to stay afterschool and check out more girls? The volleyball team should be getting ready for practice about now.”

“Heh, good try, but that ain’t ‘till tomorrow.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lydia resumed pedaling. Lydia thought she had lost the “transvestgeist” when her bike wobbled from the sudden unbalance of a new passenger. She stopped, almost toppling over, placed a boot firmly on the ground, and looked behind her. Betelgeuse, still guised as Betty, waved at her with a smirk. Her bike had been transformed into a two-seated tandem!

“Miss me?”

“What are you doing here? I thought you left.”

“Uh, yeah, can’t really do that without your help.”

“Oh.” As Lydia opened her mouth to chant his name, Betelgeuse slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Nah-uh, babes. Not yet.”

Lydia pried his hand off her face. “Well then what do you want!”

“Damn, no need to be so testy, babes. I just had a question, is all.”

“What?”

“Why’d you throw that nerdy chick’s invitation away?”

“What are you— “An envelope was thrust into her face. Lydia shoved Betelgeuse’s hand away again. He had unsealed it. “Why do you even care?”

Betelgeuse avoided her question by asking another. “So, will there be hotties there, or do ya think there’ll all be nerds?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ya know, geeky gals may not be as cute, but they can surprise ya! Underneath all those baggy sweaters and big ol’ specs can be a great pair of tits, and those dweeby ones can be buttered up real easy, makin’ getting laid a synch! It’s decided!” Betelgeuse wrapped his arms around Lydia, causing the bike to teeter. “You’re takin’ me to that party!” 

“Too bad, because I’m not going.”

“You gotta go, or I can’t get in!”

“Oh well.”

“Damn,” Betelgeuse released Lydia and sat back, transforming into himself, “you’re a killjoy.”

“And you’re a pervert.”

He dismissed her statement with a snort and spat on the ground. “So why ain’t ya going?”

Defeated, Lydia sighed and confessed the truth. “Because no one wants me there.”

“That Bertha chick seemed to. Why else would your name be on the invite?”

“Because she’s nice and wants to spare my feelings.” An unexpected surge of tears tackled Lydia. She swallowed them down before they escaped. “Besides, once I’m there, she’ll realize I’m a freak and regret inviting me. I’m doing her a favor.”

“Is that all?” Betelgeuse began laughing. “Shit, and I thought you mighta had a good story, too! Listen,” he slapped a hand on her shoulder, making Lydia jump. “You take me, and you ain’t got to worry ‘bout those suckers disliking ya. I might be dead, but Betty’s the life of a party! Trust me, toots, they’ll be dying to be your friend once you introduce ‘em to me.” 

Lydia couldn’t tell if Betelgeuse was trying to be nice or just using her to have questionably-unlawful lesbian sex. Either way, she was oddly grateful for the weirdly kind, be it gross, gustier.  Maybe this door thing wasn’t so bad after all?

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

When Lydia opened up to him, admitting her fears of being disliked by her friends, it was the first time that burring pustule of a wound she’d inflicted on him began to sting, not from irritation, but from some kind of shitty, scorching sealant.

That’s when he knew he wanted more than a ring or a fling with Lydia. But even then, Betelgeuse had no idea that his fondness for Lydia would fester into something beyond friendship.

THUD!

With a jolt, Betelgeuse yanked his hand from his trousers, ready to attach the intruder. 

“Fuck, it’s just you.” Sandy had poked his head though the workshop’s window and was wagging his wiggling body like a dog does its tail.

“Go bother a breather or something.” Betelgeuse fussed, throwing a wrench at the pet sandworm, secretly happy for the brief disruption.


	8. Bug Amidst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh what joy unexpected court summonings are--NOT! But what is the summons for? Keep reading to find out.

Flooded   
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)   
Chapter 8: Bug Amidst

 

After parking Doom in the driveway so that he could dry off from his brief cruise as a pontoon boat, Lydia went inside. “Mom, Dad,” she called, “I brought breakfast.”

Her father looked up from the Nether-Newspaper. “When you say ‘brought,’ you don’t mean you went out with HIM again, do you?”

“Dad, seriously? You’re still on about that?”

Charles set the paper down on his lap and gave his daughter a stern look. “Listen, pumpkin, I appreciate what he’s done for us, I do,” Lydia doubted that, “but he’s—oh, how do I put it?—he’s a man, and you’re, well you’re a young woman, and a very pretty one at that, and—”

“Dad,” moaned Lydia, “I’ve told you before: we’re just friends. He’s definitely not interested in me like that.”

“I don’t care if he is or isn’t. What matters to me is your safety.”

“Dad—”

“I just want you to be careful, okay?”

Handing over the white paper bag containing his and Delia’s breakfast, Lydia agreed unenthusiastically. “I’ll be fine, Dad. Stop worrying.”

“I don’t only mean with him,” Charles clarified as he took the bag. “I’ve been reading the paper; this whole realm appears to be in some kind of turmoil, the scale of which hasn’t been seen in centuries! I’ll feel a lot more content once I know you’re safe with my sister’s again.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Right.” Because the Otherworld—the one that brutally snatched her loved ones away, was being attacked by sandworms, and violently purged itself of anything the slightest bit unusual—was SO much safer.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Alone in the kitchen, Lydia finished her breakfast—a sausage patty on a buttery biscuit—when the doorbell began to ring.  Lydia went to see who it was, but Delia was already at the door.

“You’ve all been summoned to court,” said a disembodied voice. If there was an entity attached to the voice, Lydia couldn’t see it.

“Court,” squawked Delia. “What for?”

The unseen messenger responded. “To stand witness on a Trial of Matrimony.”

Charles stood up in alarm. “Matrimony?” There was only one Nether-related marriage he had ever witnessed: his daughter’s.

“That’s correct,” said the voice. A shriveled brown hand reached through the doorway, thrusting a pair of officially sealed envelopes at Delia. “More details will be given during the trial.” The door slammed shut.

A bit dazed from the intrusion, Delia blinked and looked at the envelopes. “L-Lydia?”

Lydia walked over to her stepmom who held out an envelope. It was addressed to “Lydia of the Living.” She took the envelope and peeled the wax seal off the parchment. Unlike her parents, Lydia wasn’t summoned as witness or even jury duty. No. Lydia was on defense—with Betelgeuse. 

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“You too?” asked Betelgeuse.

“Yeah.” Lydia was looking though the wardrobe that had been conjured alongside the rest of the bedroom and conjoined bath. “We all got summoned.”

“Ya know what for?”

Lydia paused momentarily before pulling out a simple, yet formal, black dress to change into. “I… have my suspicions, but…” It couldn’t be about what happened all those years ago, could it? There would have been a trial long before now. At the very least, it would have been brought up during one of Betelgeuse’s many hearings. It had to be about something else. “I don’t know. Do you?”

“Nah,” Betelgeuse lied, feeling an internal sigh of relief wash over him. He wasn’t sure why, but Betelgeuse was thankful that Lydia didn’t know the full details for their summons. That relief would soon vanish.

“This is so stupid,” Lydia moaned. “Why can’t they ever give us a heads up? It’s always so damn sudden; there’s no time prepare!”

“That’s the point, babes: to get us off guard.” He shrugged. “Some shit about honesty or something.”

“That’s ridiculous. Being ‘off guard’ doesn’t make anyone more honest. More prone to mistakes maybe, but not honest.”

“Easier to declare someone guilty and get that paycheck.”

“Hey Beej, you don’t think this has anything to do with the whole Sandworm incident do you? Or with trying to cover that tear between our worlds?” A nervous sweat prickled Lydia’s neck. “Oh god, we’re being tried as fugitives, aren’t we!”

Betelgeuse chuckled. “Not likely. It’s not as if they didn’t know where we went, Lyds. We were just, eh, temporarily out-of-reach.  Nah, if it was over that, they’da paid us a visit by now.”

“I guess you’re right. Besides, what’s that have to do with a Matrimony?”

He tittered, “Heh, yeah.”

“Uh, this sucks.”

 “Hey,” Betelgeuse nudged her, “stop with the long face, Lyds. We’ve been in worse pickles than this!” As he spoke, Betelgeuse’s form morphed into a gargantuan cucumber.

Despite the weighty load of dread crushing Lydia’s chest, she giggled. “You’re such an idiot.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Pandemonium. Screams. Perfection. This shindig was going great! Until one boozer got a little too thrilled, miraculously skewing himself with a chimney poker and catching fire. “Oops.” As much of a treat as they were, bio-kabobs were not on the menu.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” the naïve spirit sputtered. She was newly dead and as pretty as a Barbie doll with a golden bob framing her innocent face, lips as pink as the polka dot dress blooming from her waist, and blue eyes glistening with the tears of desperation. “Oh god, what have I done? Oh god. Oh god.”

“You done? I-I mean, yeah, what YOU’VE done,” said the poltergeist to his ignorant client. “Pretty awful, huh?”

She buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Oh, what am I going to do? How am I going to live with myself?”

“You mean UN-live.”

She whaled at the reminder.

“You’re gonna get in a fuck ton of trouble now… Tough luck, kid.”

The girl looked at him with her wet face. “T-Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“Since you’re fresh, eh,“ he shrugged, “a hundred years in Limbo maybe? Never can tell with the authorities.”

“Limbo? Authorities?”

“Oh, yeah. They’re very unforgiving. Harsh as hell, usually. As for Limbo, that’s where they send the real’ bad ones,” he snorted, “so you can imagine how not-nice it is there. Ain’t yo livings’ prison cell. Certainly no place for a gal like yourself.”

“Oh god, I-I’d be sent there?”

“Yep. Pretty awful place. But that’s the price ya pay for killing one of the bios. Welp,” the poltergeist popped his collar, “I gotta fly. Lots of clients to see, not enough business hours to see ‘em. Ya know how it is.”

The girl lunged forward and grabbed the end of the ghost’s blazer. “No! No, please! You HAVE to help me!”

“Sorry, babe, but it’s not in my job description. You signed the contract.”

“Please, mister, I’m begging you! I-I don’t know anything about the Underworld. I’ve never even been in detention! Oh god, PLEASE!”

“Well… I suppose I could help, but…”

“But?”

“Heh,” he looked down at her. “It’s gonna cost ya big time, toots. I’m risking a lot by helpin’ a criminal like you.”

“Of course,” she pleaded. “Anything. Just name it.”

A putrid grin grew on his face. “Anything, eh?” This was going to work out better than planned.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“WE ARE HERE,” the scrawny judge announced, “FOR THE MATRIMONIAL CASE OF MISTER BETELGEUSE WHERE THE MARITAL STATUS OF SAID SPECTOR SHALL BE DETERMINED AND THE LEGITIMACY OR TERMINATION OF THE NUPTIALS IN QUESTIONS WILL BE DECIDED.”

“Marital Status,” asked Lydia, but before she could inquire further, the judge had called on a “Rachel Arocha” to speak.

At first, Betelgeuse didn’t know who the girl was. But he did recognize the name. “ROCHY!?” That couldn’t be the same girl? “But you’re—!”

BAM!

The mallet crashed down, putting a halt to Betelgeuse’s outburst. “YOU WILL NOT SPEAK OUT OF TURN,” the judge warned. 

Despite being dead, Rachel had a peachy complexion. That was about all Rachel shared to the ghost Betelgeuse once knew. The girl adjacent to Betelgeuse and Lydia looked to be a complete contradiction to whom Betelgeuse remembered: the halo of smoothed tresses which framed her face was now jagged and tainted with strips of color, her tulip lips were painted a charcoal black, her once bright blue eyes had darkened, and her clothes were purposefully torn in a pre-grunge style instead the prim and pristine fashion she once donned.

Rachel glared at Betelgeuse prior to turning her attention to the Judge. “Your honor,” she began, “upon being released from Limbo—or ‘Dead End,’ as they call it now—I was devastated to learn that my marriage to— “the vomitus name got trapped in her throat—” Betelgeuse had been aborted due to his marrying another. My heart simply shattered.”

“You’re not actually believing this crock of horse shit, are you!”

“BETELGEUSE!” The judge barked. “LET THE LADY SPEAK.”

“LADY?” Lydia tugged on Betelgeuse’s coat sleeve, afraid his mouth would wind them in deeper trouble. 

“As I was saying,” Rachel shot Betelgeuse a dirty look and continued, “it has recently come to my attention that his latest nuptials have no bearing on our marriage. Now that I’ve returned, our marriage is automatically reinstated, which means one of his marriages must be terminated in accordance with the law. Considering its curious circumstances, I would argue that his current marriage is illegitimate, thus it should be the one terminated.”

The judge nodded, signaling the end of Rachel’s turn. “BETELGEUSE, YOU MAY NOW PLEAD YOUR CASE.”

“My Case? What the fuck is this? She got sent to Dead End, for Kathooloo’s sake! Marriage over! End of story!”

“MISTER JUICE, DO YOU OR DO YOU NOT WISH TO DEFEND THE VALIDITY OF YOUR MARRIAGE TO LYDIA DEETZ?”

“Wait? WHAT!” So this WAS about that stupid wedding. Everyone knew the wedding was bogus. They had never finished their—shit. Had they? Was “kissing the bride” required for vows to be complete, or was that an after perk? Oh Netherworld. Did Betelgeuse know?

“What’s it matter? That broad and I are through! Finished! Spoiled!”

“BECAUSE, MISTER JUICE, POLYGAMY IS NOT PERMITTED HERE.”

“Oh fuck off. I ain’t putting up with this rubbish.”

SLAM!

The clang of the mallet shook the room, startling Betelgeuse into staying put. “WE WILL NOW HERE FROM OUR FIRST WITNESS: THE PRIEST.” The oddly shaped carcass of a dwarfed priest wobbled to the stand. “DID YOU PERFORM THE CEREMONY FOR THIS COUPLE?” With the end of his mallet, he pointed at Lydia and Betelgeuse.

“Yes,” the priest answered.

“AND DID YOU PRONOUNCE THEM HUSBAND OF WIFE?”

“Yes,” he repeated. “But the groom departed by way of sandworm attack before they could share a kiss. As far as I am aware, the vows have never been sealed nor the marriage,” the priest coughed, “consummated.”

Having heard enough, the judge dismissed the priest and called on his next witnesses: Lydia’s parents. He asked for the Deetz to confirm what the priest had said. Begrudgingly, they complied, too nervous to refute the holy man’s claim while in the terrifying courtroom of corpses.

Next, he asked if they had any reason to believe that the marriage had been, as the priest phrased it, “sealed and consummated.”

Charles and Delia exchanged knowing looks, briefly glancing at Lydia. They weren’t sure. For so long, they hadn’t known that their daughter was even friends Betelgeuse. For all they knew, Lydia and Betelgeuse may have been intimate.

Finally, the bony judge turned his attention to Lydia and asked the dreaded question: “HAVE YOU AND BETELGEUSE HAD SEXUAL RELATIONS?”

“STOP!” Lydia couldn’t take this anymore! “I’m NOT answering! I don’t want any part of this mess!” Panicked, she pushed Betelgeuse out of her way and sprinted down the hall, out of the room. 

She’d been through enough. Lydia wasn’t having any of this!


	9. Steaming Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crap. Lydia just wants to be alone.

Flooded   
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)   
Chapter 9: Steaming Hot

 

CLICK.

The television blinked to black. That frail thing running from the courtroom didn’t deserve such a beautiful chance. She was stupid. Ugly. Not even DEAD!

That was it. No more waiting.

That little bitch was about to discover the price that came with theft!

And that price wasn’t pretty.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Lydia?”

She startled, not expecting to be found hiding in the coffee joint. It was the girl from court: Betelgeuse’s not-quite-ex-wife. She was drenched from the heavy downpour of rain, the temporary colors in her hair melting into rainbow streaks. “Go away,” Lydia demanded. “I want to be alone.”

“So do I,” said Rachel, taking a seat in front of Lydia anyway. “But I’m glad I ran into you.”

Lydia stirred her coffee, refusing to look at her. “I’m not.”

“Please, let me explain—”

“Explain what? How you humiliated me in front of the entire Netherworld?”

“I didn’t know they were going to broadcast the trial.”

Lydia didn’t bother coating the bitterness in her voice. “Of course they were. It’s Betelgeuse!”

She blushed. “He wasn’t quite as notorious as he is now… But it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry the trial is embarrassing you, I am, but it had to be done.”

She glared at Rachel. Betelgeuse’s former wife looked sorry enough, but apologizing did little to sooth Lydia’s anger. “How exactly are you helping anyone by doing this?”

“That’s what I’m trying to explain to you. If he’s married to me, then that monster can’t hurt you or anyone else again.”

“Monster?” He could be a perverted jackass, but “Betelgeuse isn’t a monster.”

Rachel’s eyes widened in baffled surprise. “You mean, you actually WANTED to marry him?”

Lydia wrinkled her nose. “No, of course not! But I don’t appreciate having that stupid wedding brought back up.”

“So then it WASN’T consensual?”

“No!”

“I don’t understand what the problem is, then? Let the marriage be terminated.”

Was this girl joking or stupid? “The PROBLEM is that everyone knew the marriage was phony until YOU brought it to court.” Lydia began to furiously stir her coffee. “Now it’s a question of whether or not I’m his wife! His WIFE!”

“I’m confused… Do you want to be his wife or not?”

“Of course I don’t! But, but BJ’s my FRIEND, and it’s clear he wants nothing to do with you.” Lydia wasn’t sure what to do. Defend their marriage, then get it immediately annulled? Or allow her best friend to be trapped in a marriage he was clearly against? “I can’t just abandon him.”

“I’m not asking you to abandon your… friend,” Rachel defended. “I’m asking you not to defend your case. Let me win.”

“Why? So BJ’s stuck married to a shrew? He should have the choice to marry whoever he wants.”

Rachel was truly astonished by the living girl’s devotion to such a grotesque cretin. “He DOESN’T have that right, not if the person he wants to marry doesn’t want to be married to him. You’re a victim of his, like I was; I would have thought you of all people would understand.”

“Wait.” Lydia stopped stirring her coffee. “You were a victim?” So Rachel wasn’t just a bitter ex.  

“Yes,” Rachel nodded. “He tricked me into marrying him, and when it was discovered that a death had occurred during one of his ‘Bio-Exorcisings,’ he pinned the entire ordeal on me which got me thrown into Lim—” she quickly corrected herself “—into Dead End. He’s been using innocent people to get away with his crimes for years, and it sickens me. As his wife, his LEGITIMATE wife, I’ll insure that no one else is harmed or killed because of his antics.”

“It sucks that happened to you,” said Lydia. “But Betelgeuse isn’t like that anymore. He’s more responsible now. I mean, sure, he slips up and still has a long way to go, but…” Lydia looked down into her cup, “he’s really not a bad guy. He’s, well, he’s like me. People just don’t give him a chance.”

Rachel crossed her arms. “You mean people won’t give him ANYMORE chances. Believe me, he’s had many opportunities to be a better person, but he shits on them all.”

“Maybe when you knew him, but he’s not like that anymore. He’s trying to be better.” If all his good deeds since befriending Lydia wasn’t proof of that, then letting her parents live and remodel his beloved roadhouse was. “I’m not saying he’s a nice guy, but he’s not a completely horrible person either.”

“Please,” Rachel placed a hand on Lydia’s forearm, “listen to me. He’s using you. Get out while you can, before you get hurt. Or worse.”

Lydia tugged her arm away. “He’s NOT using me! Not anymore!”

“Lydia—”

“No, I don’t want to hear anymore! Go away!”

Rachel retracted her arm, the blue in her eyes enlarged by forthcoming tears. Not wishing to further upset Lydia, Rachel stood up to leave. Lydia may not see it, but Rachel was doing the young girl a favor. Maybe one day, Lydia would thank her. Maybe.


	10. Mourning Marionette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation with Rachel has Lydia questioning her relationship with Betelgeuse. Was it all a lie? Had he been using her all this time for his own gain? Were they actually friends? All Lydia’s worries and questions are quickly compiling into an unmanageable heap, and with Rachel’s warnings resounding loudly in Lydia’s head, Lydia can’t ignore that heap any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the intended chapter. I actually added this on a whim, both writing and typing it up yesterday. (The end is rushed... I'll try and fix that.). 
> 
> Anyhow, the intended chapter shall likely be posted next :)

Flooded   
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)   
Chapter 10: Mourning Marionette  

 

It was dark, the rain relentless. The only light came from the occasional flash of lighting. Exhausted, Betelgeuse returned to his shed to take a break from his search. As he shut the garage, another light flashed, outlining the silhouette of an uninvited guest.

Betelgeuse flinched in alarm, but a calm soon washed over him as he realized who it was. “Lyds!” She was slouching on a dusty workbench, clothes and hair saturated with rainwater from the storm. “We’ve been looking all over the Netherworld for you!” Betelgeuse yanked on a thin chain which turned on a dim flickering light overhead. “Where have ya been?”

Lydia dryly answered: “Out.”

“Babes, ya had us—I mean your folks—real’ worried.”

“Beej,” she said, looking at her hands which rested on her lap, “did you really harass her?”  

Betelgeuse startled. “What’re ya talking about?”   

“That girl. You’re… wife.”

“Er,” he hesitated. “Listen, babes, that was a long time ago.” He laughed nervously, removing his wet hat from his head and tossing it aside. “It’d just upset ya.”

She looked up at him. Rather than the reprimanding stare that Betelgeuse expected, Lydia looked sad. Empty. Somehow, the blank look unnerved him even more than her disapproval. “BJ—”

Betelgeuse cut her off. “Seriously, babe, I really don’t—“

“I’m your wife,” Lydia said, not willing to hear his excuses. “Or, I might be. Doesn’t that give me a right to know what happened? Who she is?”

“I…”

“BJ, you need to tell me. This isn’t just your problem anymore. It’s… ours.”

He exhaled in defeat and sat down in his chair across from the table where Lydia sat. “You’re not gonna like it.”

“I know, but—“

“You have a right,” Betelgeuse finished with a begrudging groan. He paused a minute to compose himself while trying to think of a simplistic way to express what had happened. Pushing his damp hair back with a grunt, he began: “See, eh, I had been trying to start up my career as a bio-exorcist ‘cause I’d been canned by Juno, and Rochy seemed like your typical sucker when it comes to a good scam—”

“Like the Maitlands,” said Lydia.

“Er, yeah.” He blushed. “Like them.”

“So what happened?”       

“Well, er, I let shit get outta hand, and, uh, one of the guys we were hauntin’ got impaled.” Betelgeuse choked back a chuckle and cleared his throat. “Erm, well, Rochy thought she’d done it, so I ran with it. Convinced ‘er that if she married me, I’d make the whole thing disappear. But it didn’t.”

“So you blamed her and she took your punishment.”

“I-It’s worse than that.”

Lydia grew concerned. “What do you mean ‘worse’?”

“Er, I don’t, um…” There was no way to say it nicely, so he spat it out. “I made her do things, alright!”

“Things?”

“Yeah, ‘things.’ Now can we drop it.” It wasn’t a question; it was a firm demand.

Things? What was—oh. Oh hell. He meant THINGS. Post-marital things. Things Rachel didn’t consent to. “Oh god… BJ, why?”

“You’re a big girl; figure it out. Now can we DROP it!”

Lydia put her head in her hands. It wasn’t like she didn’t know how despicable he used to be—he HAD tried to pull something similar to her—but it still came as a shock. Maybe it was so shocking because of how close Lydia was to having the same fate as Rachel.

Neither spoke for a while. The only sound was the steady clinking of rain on the roof.

“BJ,” Lydia finally spoke. “Why haven’t you let me die?” The curiosity had been grating at Lydia ever since Betelgeuse brought up her dying in the Otherworld, but Lydia hadn’t felt well enough to delve any deeper into the topic. Now, after hearing what happened to Rachel, she couldn’t suppress the question any longer.

Betelgeuse sat up and scrutinized Lydia. “What? Okay, now I really have no idea what you’re on about.”

“You know,” she shrugged, “why save me all those times? You could have let Sandworms, or whatever, kill me and then play it up as your juice being on-the-fritz or something. I mean, you talk all the time about how you’d like me dead.”  

“Well, yeah, but not because I want you actually DEAD.”

“Because—” tears burned her eyes “—you don’t ‘actually want’ to be stuck with my company.”

Betelgeuse leaned forward. “Babes, what are you talking about? Of course I want you here; that’s why I joke about you dying.”

“And yet you don’t want me dead.”

“Not because I don’t want ya around, babes. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know... I guess ‘cause I don’t want ya hurt. Or getting stuck with a shit job ‘cause ya killed yourself.”

“Then you do care about me?”

Betelgeuse swallowed and glanced away. “Uh…”

“Then why torment all my dates?” Another nagging question.

“Same reason I sabotaged your date with Vince!” He snapped.

Lydia moaned. “I’m just a dummy for you to manipulate. A stupid toy that you’re unwilling to share.”

“So I get a little jealous,” he muttered. “Big deal! But I don’t think you’re a gullible dummy! I mean, I did, before I knew ya. But not now!”

One of the tears she’d been holding back escaped. She whipped it with the palm of her hand, but more came to replace it.

“First ya run off and go missing, then I find you here and ya start asking about Rochy, your death, and datin’, and now you’re CRYING! What’s going on with you, Lyds?”

Lydia sniveled. “I’m scared, Beej! I’m fucking terrified and confused, okay! The death of parents is still fresh, I’m afraid to go home to my aunt, and I’m-I’m afraid you’re not really my friend! I don’t want to be another Rachel!” More tears burst from her eyes, falling faster than her thin hands could catch them. “I don’t want to deal with this trial! I-I just want everything to stop!” Lydia was in the Netherworld with her parents. That was a good thing, right? Lydia should be happy. But she wasn’t. Instead, she was swollen with dread.

A hand rested on Lydia’s lap. She glanced over to see Betelgeuse beside her, looking in the other direction. The touch wasn’t like his perverted strokes from Headquarters. It was motionless. A sign of comfort. “Beej, did you mean what you said?”

“Huh?”

Lydia tried aimlessly to dry her face with her wet sleeve. “After Dead End, did you mean what you said?”

“Uh,” he returned his hand to his own lap, “ya mean all the ‘nonsense’?”  

“No,” she sniffed. “Whatever you remembered.”

He didn’t say anything.

“That’s what you came into my room for last night, wasn’t it? I was hoping you’d think it was an exorcised induced trip…”

“Your gonna have to be more specific, babes.” Although Betelgeuse hoped she wouldn’t be. “I said a lot of shit.”

Maybe whatever freaked him out wasn’t what Lydia had presumed. Maybe he remembered saying something else entirely. “Nevermind…” Lydia rested her head in her hands again and gazed at her lap. “It doesn’t matter.”

It was silent again. More rain.

The real topic of concern was still unaddressed, but neither wanted to bring it up. Before either of them could gain the nerve to say more, there was a honking outside the shed, disrupting the silence.

BEEP! BEEP!

It was Doom. The sentient car had pulled into the driveway and was eagerly awaiting the garage to be opened.

“Sounds like your folks are back,” Betelgeuse said. “Ya better let them know you’re okay.”

“Yeah...” Lydia hopped off the workbench. “Hey, Beej?”

“Hm?”

“Mind trying to get the trial postponed? I… I don’t want to go tomorrow.”

Betelgeuse forced himself to smile, but he couldn’t quite get the comicality into his voice. “No problem, Lyds.”

With that, Lydia left.

Hopefully a few pills were hiding in her box of things, because boy did she need them.

Bad.


	11. Loony Pin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Say what you say or do what you do  
> Why don't you be my lover  
> Mean what I say and I'll make you pay  
> You better run for cover
> 
> — “Gimme That Swing” by Cissie Redgwick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was out of town in Oct, recovering from surgery in Nov, and then busy working retail in Dec. 
> 
> In short, my time management SUCKS. But here it finally is! 
> 
> The rest of the story is gonna be a bit more challenging to write because I have to figure out what happens outside of flashbacks. I keep scrapping and reworking the parts of the story taking place in the "present"; I just can't seem to write something that works... but flashbacks, pfffft, boy do I have plenty of those! But they mean nothing if I can't weave them into the main plot in a meaningful way. Wish me luck... 
> 
> EDIT: found quite a few typos, so the chapter shall be updated with slight alterations soon   
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

Flooded   
by [Unusual_Underground](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unusual_underground/profile)   
Chapter 11: Loony Pin

   
A large bushel of copper curls erupted from under the desk as the juggler poked her head out and looked up at the snazzy new ringmaster. With him in charge, things were finally starting to turn around for their troupe.

“Was I good?”

The ringmaster leered down at Lezzlie, took her by the chin, and stroked the smudge of red paint on her lower lip. “Very good.”

She smiled.

“Now go and fix your makeup, babe. We got work to do before the show.”

“Awe,” she pouted, “but baby’s still hungry, Beegee.” She sat up, the cascade of curls bouncing around her bosom, and caressed her favorite bottle.

“You little glutton,” he teased, pushing her hand away and stood up to fix his swanky striped slacks. “Now get up, toots. We gotta work on your act.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Babes, when it comes to showbiz, there is ‘dull’ and there’s ‘dead,’ and you’re act, quite frankly, is dull.” He picked up a knife from his desk. “You guys wanna successful circus, then ya gotta sharpen up and start actin’ dead!” He flipped the knife, catching the bladed end, and pointed the handle at Lezzlie. “Ya know what I mean?”

“Um,” she looked at the knife, “but Beegee, my brothers don’t want me touchin’ these...”

With a snort, Betelgeuse giggled at the once Southern belle and her naivete. “You’re kidding me, right? Boy, those brothers of yours sure keep ya sheltered!” He slapped her on the shoulder. “Listen kitten, I don’t know what those idiots are telling ya, but you’re dead. As in NOT living.”

“I know.”

“Then ya know what that means, yeah?” She looked at him blankly. “Oh geese… It means this knife ain’t gonna hurt ya!”

“Yeah, but…”

“But nothin’! Being dead’s a blessing, babes.” He snatched her hand and forced her to clutch the knife. “Don’t let those weasels make ya think otherwise!”

“So…” she looked down at the blade glistening in her hand, “you want me jugglin’ with these instead of my pins?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he answered. “But first, we got some recruits to welcome on the other side. Wanna join me?”

Her face lit up with a huge smile. “Really!”

“Yup.” Betelgeuse grabbed the top hat and cane resting against the side of his desk. “Now hurry up; the Otherworld doesn’t wait for everyone!”

Lezzlie squealed with excitement. “Ah, I haven’t been there since I died!” She went to set the knife down, but Betelgeuse grabbed her wrist.

“What’ya doing, babes?” Lezzlie didn’t understand. “You’re gonna need that where we’re going.”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“Whoa,” Lezzlie guffawed, “she sounds like a donkey!”

Splayed flaccidly on a plush chair was the small body of a snoring flapper made unconscious form too many drinks. Her small hand barely clung to the empty bottle of illegal booze.

“Say ‘hi’ to our newest member,” said Betelgeuse.

“But, Beegee, she’s breathing?”

“Come on.” He took Lezzlie by the arm and yanked her through a wall. “See that one dancin’ there?”

She gasped: “A clone!”

“No, a twin. She and the drunk in there are a couple of trapezes artists.”

The juggler tilted her head as she watched the sister dance. The beaded tassels of the dress were sparkling to the swing of the lively flapper. “So wha’do we do, Bugbear?”

“What do ya think THAT’S for?” He released her arm to point at the knife in Lezzlie’s hand. “It’s our little gift to sleeping beauty in the other room.”

“Ohhh, I get it! But what about the one jigging? Won’t we need her too?”

“That’s where you come in, babes. You’re gonna possess ‘er“—he took the hand which held the knife—“and use this. She’s tipsy, so she’ll be easy to influence.”

Lezzlie nodded and braved for her first possession. With a deep inhale, she entered the body of the dancing twin. “Whoa,” she wobbled, woozy from the sudden sensation of doing the Charleston.  Once Lezzlie gained her balance within the new body, she made her way to the room with the sleeping sister.

Lezzlie locked the door behind her. “Beegee, you here? I can’t see you with these bio-eyes.”

“Yeah-yeah, I’m here.” He shimmered into view. “Ya ready?”

Lezzlie looked at her—or rather, the possessed girl’s—hand and made the phantom knife materialize. “Sure am, Bugbear!”

“Well go on then; give ‘er the present.”

“What about this one I’m standing in?”

“Oh, don’t worry about her. As soon as she sees what she’s done, she’ll join us on her own.”

Understanding, Lezzlie slinked over to the twin and gently tilted her head until the neck was straight. “Welcome to the show,” Lezzlie whispered as the blade grazed smoothly across the girl’s thin throat. Convulsing with a surge of rapturous energy, she released the knife. It clanked as it hit the floor.

A bullet hurtling through her spine had prevented Lezzlie from ever experiencing what it felt like to cut someone’s neck open. But now, finally, she knew what that feeling was.

Ecstasy!  

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

The tent rustled as someone came in unannounced.

“If you’re here for a ticket to the show, you’re too late. Come back tomorrow.”

“Actually, I’m here for you,” said the raspy voice of an elderly woman.

Betelgeuse looked up. The old broad had short silver hair styled in finger waves and wore a champagne dress with matching gloves. Multiple strings of pears were draped loosely around her neck.

“I heard about what you’ve done. A lot of chaos has ensued because of your antics.”

“Hey, I’ve got a haunting permit! I ain’t breaking any laws!”

“Calm down!” She said, taking a puff of the fag which rested at the end of the long cigarette holder clutched between her fingers. Instead of exhaling, the smoke leaked from a deep laceration in her throat.  “I’m not here to persecute you; I’m here to deliver a proposal.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“You’re a powerful ghost, Mister Geist—”

“It’s pronounced ‘Juice,’” he corrected. “Beetle. Juice. Two words, one name.”

“Whatever.” She waved her cigarette, a bit disappointed that his name didn’t rhyme with poltergeist. “The point is, you’re powerful, and I want YOU to be my apprentice.”   

“You’re what for what now?”

“My apprentice. I’m a caseworker, and I’ve been looking for a guy with just the gusts for the job.”

He chortled. “A caseworker! Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me!” He turned in his chair to get a better look at the woman. “Listen, babes, I don’t fix others’ mistakes, and I sure as HELL don’t push papers!”

“Being a caseworker isn’t all about paperwork, Betelgeuse. It involves a lot of field work, and THAT’S what I want YOU primarily doing.”

“So you need me to scare the shit out of some Bios for the noobs who’re too dumb to handle it themselves?”

“There’s more to it than that, but yes. Only the best haunters are able to get this position, and from what I hear, you’re ‘The Ghost with The Most.’” 

“Flatterin’, babes,” he sneered, “but not what I’d called enticing.”

She shrugged. “It pays well.”

“How ‘well’ are we talkin’?”

“Well enough to buy me these,” with her forefinger, the woman lifted a strand of the expensive pearls, “and a LOT more.”

“Alright, lady!” Betelgeuse stood up and snatched the woman’s gloved hand for a vigorous shake. “You’ve got yourself a deal!”

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Leaving? He… he couldn’t be LEAVING! They needed him. She NEEDED him.

No.

HE needed HER.

Anywhere Beegee was going, she would follow, her brothers be damned! That dirty sleazebag of a brother wouldn’t control her anymore. Scuzzo, he wasn’t just overprotective. No, he was jealous! He was jealous of Betelgeuse’s charm, talent, success, and, most of all, Scuzzo was jealous of the time she and Beegee spent together.

It was decided. Lezzlie would vamoose her ass out of this bastille. No more being trapped in this repugnant tent. It was time to ditch these deadbeats and start unliving the afterlife!

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

Lezzlie startled at the sound of her name being spoken in that seductively lurid voice, quickly thrusting the oozing choker behind her back. He had noticed her. “B-Betelgeuse,” she spluttered. “I, uh, I’m—”

“Just the ghoul I was lookin’ for!”

She tilted her head. “I… am?”

“’Course you are, toots!” He walked over, slapping an arm around her waist, and pulled her close. “Can’t begin to tell ya how much I’ve missed your plucky meddlin’. Ain’t many gals as eager to experimenting as you.”

“Ain’t many boys as waggish and willing as you,” she replied while bunching the cloth necklace in her fist.

“So, uh, Lez, this might be a bit forward, but— “

Lezzlie spun out of Betelgeuse’s embrace so that she could face him as he spoke. “What is it, baby?”

“Well,” he scratched at a bit of grime by his lips. “The thing is, I was wonderin’ if you wanna get hitched?”  

Lezzlie blinked. “Hitched to what?”

“To me.”

“Like a horse?”

Betelgeuse sniggered. “No, toots. I’m talking about marriage. Ya know, being my wife.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Ya mean, you want to marry ME?”

“Yeah. Ya see, there was this, uh, complication at work and— “Before he could finish, Lezzlie leapt up, thrusting her arms around Betelgeuse’s neck, and planted a mammoth kiss to his mouth. “I guess that’s a yes?”  He asked between sloppy smooches.

“Duh!” She shouted in an almost euphoric moan, releasing the choker behind her newly proclaimed fiancé so that her hands were free to push him against the alleyway wall.

“Ya know, there is a room nearby that we could barrow?”

A dagger of dread pierced through Lezzlie’s chest at the mention of a nearby room—and the ectoplasmic sludge Betelgeuse would find in it. To evade the grisly sight, Lezzlie wailed “How boring! I thought you were more fun than that?”

Betelgeuse’s lips twisted into a menacing smirk. “You want fun, eh? I’ll show you fun!” With a harsh yank, both straps holding up Lezzlie’s dress snapped. A cascade of heavy beads and delicate cloth dropped to the muddy gravel, followed by other unmentionables. “God, I missed those tits. Everyone’s so goddamned thin now.”

“I missed yours too,” she teased, taking him in.

 

[¬º-°]¬

 

“You’re home!” Lezzlie shouted as her husband trudged through the door, the stench of liquor and smoke seeping through his pores and off his clothes. He shrugged the dingy coat, patched at the elbows from overuse, off his shoulders and flung it over a hook screwed into to the wall. “It’s been days!” she groaned. “I’ve been forced to—” a shiver crawled up her spine and down her arms—“amuse myself.”

“Good for you,” Betelgeuse said as he plopped onto his chair and turned on the television, not the least bit interested in the exploits that occurred during his absence.

Dismissing Betelgeuse’s indifference as being the mental exhaustion of a hard day’s haunting, Lezzlie sashayed over to her hunk of a husband and mounted his lap, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt before caressing a finger down his chest. He ignored her, straining to look over the russet bushel of coils blocking his show.

Unamused, Betelgeuse took Lezzlie’s wrist into his hand, putting a stop to her stroke. “Why don’t ya play with one of those bowling pins of yours,” he suggested. “My show’s on.”

“But Bugbear,” she pouted, “I want to play with YOU’RE pin. Come on—” she nibbled at his neck, but he didn’t budge—”Let me reenergize ya, baby. Like I used ta.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re fun and all, Giggles, but I used up all my juices while I was out. Now be a good girl and finish dinner.”

She blinked in slight disbelief and tilted her head. Was he snubbing her? Snubbing sex? Again!

“Hurry up, babes,” Betelgeuse urged. “I’m starved over here.” 

“Uh,” she blinked again, murmured “A’course,” and slid off his lap, returning to the kitchen.

The kitchen was a sectioned off part of the living room where the carpet had been ripped up in favor of cheap tile. The inexpensive flooring made cleaning easier, but the stains on the cupboards, grease on the counters, and gunk spilling from the grout pointed at the tile being a useless modification.

Once dinner was prepared, Lezzlie plated the food and beckoned for her husband: “Beegee! It’s ready!”

With a grunt, he got up from his chair to sit at the buffet. With a grin, Lezzlie plopped a heaping of spaghetti onto a plate, gravy spattering as she flicked the ladle clean, and slid the plate over to her hubby. “I made one of your favorites,” she said. “Tomato and meat sauce! I had the beef cooking since yesterday.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t care.

She poured him a wine and set the glass beside his plate. He snatched it up and took a gulp. It was no way to drink a nice wine, but Lezzlie didn’t complain. “Eat up!” she urged. “It’s ECTO-llent for your health!”

Betelgeuse rolled his eyes, insulted by her feeble attempt of a pun. “Cute.”

Lezzlie stood on the other side of the buffet and put a big mouthful of pasta into her mouth. A strand of spaghetti landed on her cleavage, speckling bits of red across her chest.  Still chewing, she spluttered, “You like it?” Betelgeuse glared at her, agitated by the unwarranted blither. “I knew you would. I only use meat you’ve already sampled. Can’t beat such fresh flesh.”

Betelgeuse cocked an eyebrow while slurping up more long noodles. What was she on about?

“Oh,” she waved her hand playfully, “don’t act like ya don’t know.” Lezzlie took another satisfying bite. “I saw ya tastin’ her pulp yesterday. Being so yummy, I figured it’d make a scrumptious addition to my special sauce.”

The leer on her face grew with pride. What had once seemed the smile of a lovesick idiot now appeared sinister. No, “sinister” implied ill-intent. This smile was full of pleasure. It was sadistic, and not in the erotic BDSM way that Betelgeuse enjoyed.

Unable to swallow the bite he’d been chewing, Betelgeuse began hacking up his food.

“Awe, don’t act like that, Beegee. I’ve always made it for you this way.”

“You’re insane!” he hawked, smearing the sauce from his mouth onto his sleeve.

“Pft,” Lezzlie rasberried the air. “Prostitutes go missing ALL the TIME! No one will ever notice they’re gone.”

“That’s NOT what I meant.”

“Oh come on, Beegee,” she set her plate down and leaned over the booth, resting her elbows on its cold and messy surface, and tilted her head coyly. Her smile, unfazed by his disgust. “You didn’t really think I was gonna let any of those awful cunts get away with touchin’ MY wittle Buggybear, did ya?”

“YOUR ‘buggybear’!” Betelgeuse stood up, slamming his fists down. “Listen here, bitch! I ain’t nobody’s property!”

“Ya’ve always been mine, Buggyboo. Ever since I first saw ya.” She steched herself on the table like a cat, coating herself in their leftovers. “And then you showed me what death REALLY is! You opened my eyes!”

“You’re fucking nuts!”

She blinked her signature blink as the realization that Betelgeuse was actually angry—angry at HER—began to sink in. Her smile wavored. “Wha-What are ya sain’?”

“You’re nuts!” he repeated. “Crazy! Fucking psycho!”

Water filled Lezzlie’s eyes. “B-But, Beegee—“

“You want to know why I stopped ‘playing’ with you? Because I got BORED! You get it? I got bored of YOU! Hell, I never even liked you! You’re just a bitch I used to get by! A convenient piece-of-ass! You don’t mean SHIT to me!”

With a high-pitched screech, Lezzlie lunged forward to snatch the spread of his collar, but Betelgeuse was too swift and evaided her grasp. “You LIED to me!” She swatted the plates which crashed to the floor, shattering on impact. “You LIED!”

“I’ve never been an honest ghost, babes.”

With another shriek, she grabbed the blender and chucked it at Betelgeuse. “You’re going to PAY for this! PAY!”

He dodged the on slew of kitcheree hurdling towards him.

“ASS! JERK! MEANY!” The insults continued.

“Damn,” Betelgeuse knew Lezzlie had a couple loose screws, but he never realized that those screws were completely MISSING! “Watch it! Calm yout tits, woman!”

“Calm?” Lezzlie squawked, “CALM!” She had found the knives.

“Oh shit.” Betelgeuse snagged the seat cousin off the chair and held it as a shield.

“Stop being a pussy and show your face!” Through heavy tears, she began cackling with fierce agony. “I thought you were the Ghostest-with-the-Mostest! Dat a lie too!”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment!”

“Oh, so it’s YOUR apartment now, huh! What happened to it being OUR apartment!”

“There is no ‘our,’ Lezzlie! Get it through your fucking head! There. Is. No. Us!” Betelgeuse heard the clang of the knife hitting the floor and peaked from behind the cousin.

“Fuck it,” she murmured, tears streaming down her face. “You want the apartment, fine, you can HAVE the apartment!” In slight horror, Betelgeuse watched the young girl grip her left hand and, with a hard yank, sever her finger from it. “And you can have your ring too!” She flung the ginger at Betelgeuse and marched to the door. “You’re gonna regret this, Beegee. You’re gonna want me back, just wait!”

The door slammed.

“What. The. Fuck?”


End file.
